RACHEL GOES DOWN

Rachel was already half in the bag when Mike showed up at the bar and began shoving ecstasy pills in our mouths. Rachel didn’t even hesitate, and swallowed hers down with a gulp of her drink. I, on the other hand, knew better, and tongued mine into my cheek as I made a big show of swallowing it. I could tell that I would be in for the long haul. Rachel was freshly off of her meds, and that combined with vast amounts of alcohol and X would enviably lead to disaster. It was going to be a long night.

Mike hung around, no doubt with visions of threesomes dancing in his head. I knew that I had about an hour before the pills kicked in and Rachel was an immobile puddle all over the filthy barroom floor. I had to think fast. Did I know anybody who lived nearby?

Jane! That was it! Disaster averted. I could get Rachel over to Jane’s house and off the streets before things started to become really out of hand. Rachel’s pupils were already beginning to dilate.

“I love you baby. You realize that you’re my bestest friend in the whole world, don’t you?” Rachel slurred at me.

“I love you too.” I replied as I hoisted her up off the barstool. “Come on, it’s time to call it a night.”

Mike watched us go sadly, his plans for all night long sweaty drugged sex dashed before his eyes.

While getting Rachel to maneuver the two and half blocks to Jane’s house was hampered by her two-inch heels, we eventually made it. Heels are hard enough to walk in under the best of circumstances. Throw in alcohol and X and it is practically impossible.

Jane was somewhat less then happy to see us when I knocked on her front door. I can’t say that I really blamed her. By now Rachel had disintegrated into a babbling, incoherent mess. I held her up as she swayed back and forth, muttering something about glowing mice and how everyone was out to get her.

“Come on, Jane, she would do the same for you if you were this fucked up.” I pleaded.

“Fine! But she better not freak out or break anything!” Jane huffed as she held the door open for us to enter.

“Honestly, you won’t regret this. You’re a real lifesaver.” I said gratefully as I deposited Rachel’s twitching body on the couch. By now her pupils were as big as dinner plates. As the ecstasy really started to kick in, she started moaning and biting the couch.

“Why is she chewing on my couch?” Jane asked.

“Search me.” I replied. “I haven’t got a clue. Maybe it tastes good.”

Rachel was totally gone at this point, locked into a drugged delirium. She alternated her frenzied gnawing on the upholstery with slurred cursing and mumbling. I couldn’t make out all that much of what she was saying, something about us being “fucking bitches” and “stupid assholes”. There were vague plans mentioned of leaving a frenzied “smackdown on our asses”. This was all well and good; I wasn’t too worried about Rachel’s smackdown capabilities at the moment.

Then something caught her eye. Jane’s brand-new large screen television. Jane’s most treasured possession. With great determination, Rachel began to attempt to kick in the screen. These weren’t any half-hearted whacks, they were huge karate kicks.

“That’s it! That’s the final straw. No more!” Jane screamed. “She’s got to go, Now!”

I couldn’t really blame her. I probably would of felt the same way had it been my TV.

“Fine,” I replied, “but on one condition; you have to help me get her to the car. I’m not going to be able to get her there all by myself.”

“Whatever it takes, I don’t care. I want her out of her before she trashes the place.”

We hoisted her up between us and marched her to the front door. Once we were there, an insurmountable obstacle confronted us. Six steps. Six steps that led down to the street. I knew we were doomed to failure before we had even begun. There was no way we were going to be able to make it. Sure enough, Rachel started to bellow at us. “Leave me alone, you goddamn bitches, leave me alone! I can do it by myself!” Any attempts at assistance were violently refused.

Knowing the inevitable outcome, Jane and I positioned ourselves at the bottom of the stairs, arms outstretched and waiting to receive. At least we could catch her and minimize the damage. As Rachel slid one foot over the first step, swollen elephant-like by her ridiculously impractical heels, disaster loomed. I saw the fall play out in slow motion; her body tumbling hard down the concrete steps. She ended up stopping her fall with the back of her head.

Amazingly, Rachel rose phoenix-like from the steps as I watched a huge purple goose egg begin to rise from her skull. She slid between the two of us and goose-stepped down the sidewalk on her swollen feet, cursing all the while. I watched her unsteady progress in awe.

Somehow, Jane and I managed to steer her into my car and I got her home and into bed. In the morning she didn’t remember a thing, and nursed a concussion for the next two days. She still hasn’t cut back on her drinking, but these days I insist on her wearing shorter heels when we hang out.

Raina Bird was born in a commune of disorganized neurotic hippies run by a fat bald guy with 9 wives who said he was the living incarnation of the divine. She is currently writing a memoir about the experience and rarely leaves her house.