Jumping up I grabbed my fluorescent-green plastic cup of red wine in one hand I pushed the tent flap aside and entered. “Here’s your pill,” my friend said as I sat down, dangling a small plastic satchel containing two pastel pink tablets. “As this is your first time,” he paused and I offered no protest, “I suggest you take half now and the rest later.” Using thumb and forefinger he attempted, unsuccessfully to break one of them in two. “Tough little bugger,” I said in sympathy as I watched him try and snap it along the indentation. I was excited and nervous too but I’d been looking for an opportunity to try MDMA for a while and this was a good one: three days, two nights, maybe thirty acts, a high proportion of bogans and eight very cool people to spend it all with.
After a protracted search for a knife and using a melways to cut it on, he handed me the two halves. Choosing the smallest one, turning it around in my now slightly shaking hand, I watched it drop accidentally into my plastic cup. “Shit,” I said not sure what to do as I looked down at the red ripple. “Ah…. um” and with newly found rock-and-roll abandon, knowing this was probably not recommended I gulped down my wine only to find the pill stuck to the bottom. I signed and with my index finger fished it out and left the tent to find some water.
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