Against my judgement, I've decided to go ahead and post tonight's story. This story marks my leaving of the 'fifth business.' I play a bigger part in this story than in the previous two.
Early spring, 1998. I was seventeen years old. This was a weekend of some importance: our friend Chris was getting out of jail. Arrangements had to be made for his welcome back party.
This responsibility fell largely on myself and two of my goons, Tommy and Bunky. Tommy was a meat-headed stoner skater and Bunky was a naïve kid that wanted nothing more than to be some sort of rebel. We had formed the cornerstones of a loose circle of rotating friends the past couple of years, and somehow we were put in charge of the welcoming committee.
Chris, well, in the annals of my adolescence, there were few local figures as legendary as he. Drug running, vandalism, violence, a complete lack of morals. The quintessential bad kid. I had only risen in this circle since he'd been imprisoned, so I had never, you know, actually met him.
There was only one location the shindig could be at: The Beerhall. Our fortress. Situated in the center of an amusement park that had been abandoned for over 20 years, it was far enough away from any peace-loving citizens that we could burn, drink, and do whatever the hell we wanted at all hours of the day. The Beerhall was a giant wooden concert hall in which a yearly Bavarian Beer Festival was held when the park was open. We had destroyed all the furniture and tables so we were left with a flat, wooden plane, which we used for skateboarding. In the years Chris had been gone, we had turned the Beerhall into a giant skatepark.
Parties would go on there weekly. Our development of the Beerhall into a premier party venue had earned us a lot of respect. He made a lot of friends we normally wouldn't have ever talked to because of that place. And it was all ours.
The party itself. . .I don't know much of, aside from the fact that it wasn't more than a dozen people or so. I nominated myself sober driver, and since it would've been too tempting to hang around a bunch of people getting gratuitously fucked up, I opted on leaving and coming back in a few hours. I took an already plastered Bunky with me for company. As I said, I didn't know Chris, so I decided I'd leave him alone with his old friends.
I think we dicked around at choobo racing in FF7 while railing lines of ritalin for a few hours. I really don't recall how we killed those couple of hours. All I kno is there was some sort of amphetamine involved.
As was the custom of the day, I popped a handful of vicodin before hopping in the car to go pick up the people I was responsible for. It was probably in the neigborhood of 1AM. Weirded out, I quickly picked up my friends, and Chris, and drove to the place we were staying at.
8AM, Saturday morning. I' was awoken by Tommy, who had stayed up all night. He was watching the news. Breaking story on the morning local station: The Beerhall had burned down overnight. Arson suspected.
My dumb ass, the sole sober one at that place, forgot to put out the fire.
I remember all of us looking at each other, wondering what to say, what to do. How many people had known we were there that night? What was going to happen? That land was owned by a state rep. Paranoia -- TOTAL paranoia -- shrouded us for weeks after this. I should've gotten used to that feeling back then, now knowing what I go through today.
We swore to never mention this weekend to anyone ever again. Being the chemical flunkies we were, the entire subbacultcha of the county knew within a week, and we took a few beatings for burning down the party hotspot we ourselves made in the first place. We lost a lot of respect on that one. Luckily, we never got in any legal trouble. Well, for this at least.
Site of the Beerhall after we were done with it. I have a before picture, too, but the name of the park is on it.
And if this one doesn't get that many responses. . .I'm ending the series. It takes me like 15 minutes to write these, but I'm not even going to expend that much effort if they're as unappreciable as it appears they are.
EDIT: VOL1 == http://forums.gaming-age.com/showthread.php?t=24477
That was before I named the series. Posted on Monday. As long as people appear interested, I'll keep posting these, up until Friday night at the very least.
ALSO: Didn't mean to insult the audience so much. I was honestly under the impression that people didn't particularly care about my silly little stories.
Early spring, 1998. I was seventeen years old. This was a weekend of some importance: our friend Chris was getting out of jail. Arrangements had to be made for his welcome back party.
This responsibility fell largely on myself and two of my goons, Tommy and Bunky. Tommy was a meat-headed stoner skater and Bunky was a naïve kid that wanted nothing more than to be some sort of rebel. We had formed the cornerstones of a loose circle of rotating friends the past couple of years, and somehow we were put in charge of the welcoming committee.
Chris, well, in the annals of my adolescence, there were few local figures as legendary as he. Drug running, vandalism, violence, a complete lack of morals. The quintessential bad kid. I had only risen in this circle since he'd been imprisoned, so I had never, you know, actually met him.
There was only one location the shindig could be at: The Beerhall. Our fortress. Situated in the center of an amusement park that had been abandoned for over 20 years, it was far enough away from any peace-loving citizens that we could burn, drink, and do whatever the hell we wanted at all hours of the day. The Beerhall was a giant wooden concert hall in which a yearly Bavarian Beer Festival was held when the park was open. We had destroyed all the furniture and tables so we were left with a flat, wooden plane, which we used for skateboarding. In the years Chris had been gone, we had turned the Beerhall into a giant skatepark.
Parties would go on there weekly. Our development of the Beerhall into a premier party venue had earned us a lot of respect. He made a lot of friends we normally wouldn't have ever talked to because of that place. And it was all ours.
The party itself. . .I don't know much of, aside from the fact that it wasn't more than a dozen people or so. I nominated myself sober driver, and since it would've been too tempting to hang around a bunch of people getting gratuitously fucked up, I opted on leaving and coming back in a few hours. I took an already plastered Bunky with me for company. As I said, I didn't know Chris, so I decided I'd leave him alone with his old friends.
I think we dicked around at choobo racing in FF7 while railing lines of ritalin for a few hours. I really don't recall how we killed those couple of hours. All I kno is there was some sort of amphetamine involved.
As was the custom of the day, I popped a handful of vicodin before hopping in the car to go pick up the people I was responsible for. It was probably in the neigborhood of 1AM. Weirded out, I quickly picked up my friends, and Chris, and drove to the place we were staying at.
8AM, Saturday morning. I' was awoken by Tommy, who had stayed up all night. He was watching the news. Breaking story on the morning local station: The Beerhall had burned down overnight. Arson suspected.
My dumb ass, the sole sober one at that place, forgot to put out the fire.
I remember all of us looking at each other, wondering what to say, what to do. How many people had known we were there that night? What was going to happen? That land was owned by a state rep. Paranoia -- TOTAL paranoia -- shrouded us for weeks after this. I should've gotten used to that feeling back then, now knowing what I go through today.
We swore to never mention this weekend to anyone ever again. Being the chemical flunkies we were, the entire subbacultcha of the county knew within a week, and we took a few beatings for burning down the party hotspot we ourselves made in the first place. We lost a lot of respect on that one. Luckily, we never got in any legal trouble. Well, for this at least.
Site of the Beerhall after we were done with it. I have a before picture, too, but the name of the park is on it.
And if this one doesn't get that many responses. . .I'm ending the series. It takes me like 15 minutes to write these, but I'm not even going to expend that much effort if they're as unappreciable as it appears they are.
EDIT: VOL1 == http://forums.gaming-age.com/showthread.php?t=24477
That was before I named the series. Posted on Monday. As long as people appear interested, I'll keep posting these, up until Friday night at the very least.
ALSO: Didn't mean to insult the audience so much. I was honestly under the impression that people didn't particularly care about my silly little stories.
