spine. None of us would let go of each other and we found ourselves
professing our unconditional love for the group and the individuals
that comprised it. Belly started to cry with joy and I found myself
loving her for it. These were my friends, and at that moment, I would
do anything for any one of them. I loved them selflessly. I loved them
for who they were, and proceeded to announce in no uncertain terms
what I thought was so special about each of them. It didn’t matter to
me at the time that I barely knew most of them.
After an hour or so of massaging each other’s flesh and egos,
Belly suggested that we all go to a party at a club down at the far end
of the beach. She said that it was a great thing to do on ecstasy. I, for
one, wanted to stay right where I was. Everyone else thought it would
be a good idea to go, and seeing as how I was deriving all my pleasure
from my comrades, it was impossible for me not to follow the will of
the group.
Skipping down the beach arm in arm, we must have looked like
a chorus line of utter lunatics. Three times on the way to the party
one of us would stumble and fall down in the sand, but rather than
risk breaking a single link we would all collapse alongside the
downed clan member laughing hysterically, then get up again
without releasing our hold on each other and the bond we all shared
that evening.
We arrived at the party just after midnight. It was hosted by the
Lovely JubblyBungalows, an establishment that catered to the
prodigious British contingent on the island. The club itself was quite
spectacular. It was a cheap wood and bamboo structure out on the
beach, but every surface had been painted with baroque fluorescent
colored paints that were charged to a fiery glow by the numerous
black lights strung around the large, breezy area. Incredibly intricate
letterforms spelled out such druggy designs as “don’t forget to take
vitamin X” and “Legalize Smoking Dope” with the initials LSD
emphasized. The black lights had the added effect of making anyone
wearing white or fluorescent colors to glow as if radioactive,
especially when they smiled to reveal arrays of brilliantly glowing
purple teeth. My brain was over-stimulated by all the bizarre
information I was suddenly required to process, and could only
mutter the one syllable, “Wow” over and over again into the
mesmerized faces of friends who were now themselves glowing with
visible auras and grinning uncontrollable, chronic smiles that
appeared painted on.
BIG AMERICAN BREAKFAST
110
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