Candyflipping at a Concert

6:50 PM Tonight is a special occasion. My friend TheJackal and I are cruising to see our favorite band in our small, blue-collar city. For such an event I’m dressed in tight white pants, a black dress shirt over a white t-shirt, a pink and black striped tie, and new dress shoes that shine. I puff on a cigar, glancing out the window with pity towards all passing traffic for what they are about to miss out on. Nobody else is about to have a cooler Tuesday night, guaranteed.

7:00 PM Along with us are all the supplies we’ll need for tonight’s adventure: glow sticks, Jolly Ranchers, Gatorades, mind-bending goodies. This is our favorite band and we won’t be arriving empty-handed. We are about to do a “Candyflip”— the slang term for ingesting LSD and MDMA together. Since the two drugs are extremely potent individually, combined they should make for unprecedented euphoria; at least, that is our hope. TheJackal parks the truck on top of a parking garage and I load up two nitrous balloons to get the celebration started. We inhale, staring across the city with hysterical chuckles. 45 seconds later we are back to normal and popping the first half of this evening’s alchemical duo: 250 micrograms of the finest LSD blotter.

7:17 PM TheJackal and I come strolling up to the theater expecting to be right on time for prime seats. The show is set to begin at 8. Upon our arrival the woman at the door informs us we aren’t allowed in yet. The show has been pushed back and it will be another forty minutes before the doors will open. TheJackal and I look at each other. No big deal, we can kill time at the diner across the street.

7:25 PM The sign says “seat yourself” so we take a booth sequestered away from people. Sitting in a restaurant wasn’t part of the plan, yet we can sip on some waters and rave about how nut-busting this show is about to be, right? The waitress comes over to introduce herself and asks for our order. Apparently water is not enough and we have to purchase something. “Whatever, we’ll take the mozzarella sticks and two waters.” I tell her.

7:32 PM The waitress comes back to give us the status on the cheese sticks. TheJackal and I are smiley and giggly. The waitress takes this as an invitation to tell us her life story and how much she loves concerts and waitress stuff and on and on and on. Listening to her speak is tiring and we silently pray for her to stop.

7:38 PM She finally stops talking, leaving to tend to other tables. All TheJackal and I are able to communicate are looks of mutual exhaustion.

7:44 PM I adjust my tie; things are a little sweaty in this suit. The walls and tables are slowly moving.

7:50 PM Finally the mozzarella sticks arrive. We aren’t the least bit hungry but we try them anyways. THEY’RE FROZEN IN THE MIDDLE. Not only were we forced to order something we didn’t want, not only did this appetizer take so goddamn long to reach our table, they’re shitty and incompletely cooked. I’m irritated and ready for this show to start.

7:54 PM The waitress wants to chitchat some more. This moves me from irritated to vexed to pissed. TheJackal and I prepared so meticulously for this evening and this woman with her half-frozen batter sticks and ceaseless chatter are not about to ruin it. Not tonight, motherfucker. I’m guessing this woman hasn’t prepared so much for anything in her entire life and we did it for A CONCERT.

7:59 PM We finish our drinks and what all we are going to eat of these fucking cheese sticks. It is time to get the check and excuse ourselves from the diner. The waitress tries to continue squawking but we, very obviously, indicate we are ready to pay with our exposed wallets and stern looks.

8:06 PM We quickly dart back over to the venue. The final part of our mission is clear: to enter the theater and grab a seat without problem before I grow horns and turn feral. This acid has a bite to it and it’s difficult to contain myself waiting in line. I pull out the first piece of paper snagged from my pocket and present it to the woman at the entrance, asking her, “Is this my ticket?” Everything must be checking out because they open the doors and let us in.

8:20 PM Inside the theater things are looking better. The lobby is blossoming with life, the lights are low, and people are standing around talking. It’s a cozy, intimate venue. TheJackal and I approach the bar. “Water please,” I howl at the bartender. “My mouth is dry.” We steal a round table right next to the bar— prime seats indeed! The chairs are tall and the table is separated from the dance floor by railing on two sides. Our seating is higher than the dance floor, which descends in front of us until it meets the stage maybe 30 feet away. TheJackal rips open a fresh bag of Jolly Ranchers and they scatter across the table. We snicker at this scene; just an innocent pile of hard candy and two quiet gentlemen.

8:28 PM Some guy surfaces at our table. He offers us a cup of dark liquor and wants us to join him in drinking because, as he says, we are “lame and drinking water”. You can always determine who the professional partiers are because they need to hydrate; what they have is better than alcohol. He insists we party with him, but little does he know we are far beyond mere drunkenness.

“I like to party,” I tell him. “I just don’t drink.”

He is comically confused. “Oh man, like what?! I love drinking. I’m here almost every night.”

I’m having trouble concentrating on his words because he has some shit coming alive on his neck: his beard is morphing into an ornamental mask. Leaning in to study this configuration, I open my mouth. “Alcohol is boring. I only like…more interesting substances.”

“Like what?” he asks.

“Uhh…hallucinogens?” I reply, unsure of how he might react.

His eyebrows raise, his eyes widen with a nervous stare, and his head tilts back before giving me a few anxious nods. “Watch my drink, will ya? You can finish it if you want to. I’ll be right back,” he mutters hastily, setting down his glass. We never saw him again.

8:34 PM I have to use the bathroom so I pace across the venue. The floor bends while I walk. Arriving at the urinal, it comes to my attention how awesome it is to be tripping in a suit. I text a few people to make sure they too know how awesome it is. Upon returning to the table TheJackal tells me some weirdos had been lurking around the table asking him if he knew where to find “Molly”. We scoff and sputter, “Amateurs.”

8:46 PM I spin around in my chair, watching the flow of people still pouring into the theater. TheJackal’s Roommate and Roommate’s Girlfriend come into sight. We all greet each other, but in the midst of group conversation my mind drifts off. I can see Roommate’s Girlfriend has a very tight top on and is not wearing a bra. She has a cute face and a limber body. She brought her hula hoop and has such a happy disposition with a playful personality. This package I find attractive.

8:55 PM People appear on stage to ensure all the instruments are in tune. At last, the band finally comes out to play. The two members do not look at all how we expected them to; they look short and goofy, making me and TheJackal laugh furiously. With the music underway we choose this to be the moment for introducing part two of our celebratory duo: 120 milligrams of crystal MDMA. We tap the capsules together, saying “Cheers!” before washing them down. I enjoy a blue raspberry Jolly Rancher.

9:15 PM Within 20 minutes I can feel the crystals kicking in. Their effects are anything but subtle. The jaw clenching is unreal, which is not at all comfortable, but I am exhilarated. Standing up and grabbing the table, I declare, “I feel weightless”. Everything in the theater moves faster and faster. Hallucinatory impressions, previously sharp and geometric, turn liquid and glossy. Colorful swirls echoing blue and purple stage lights float around the band members.

9:31 PM Riffs of the guitar pull me in and then release me, only to grab me again and take me for a ride. Spine-tickling solos send jolts throughout my body as the notes glide over wild kick drums and groovy percussive beats. Adding in vocals that mesmerize and the trip is taken in unexpected directions.

9:47 PM The feeling is beyond belief. LSD and MDMA are both outrageous on their own, but taken together are a whole new breed. They have excellent synergy and complement each other perfectly. “Absolutely nothing is going on out there!” I exclaim, pointing towards the door that leads out onto the street. I’m referencing the fact that most people are asleep or having an average weekday night. Not only are they not having as much of a thrill as we are this evening, but we are having an experience most never will. I text multiple people, telling them to keep their assholes lubed because TheJackal and I are coming over. TheJackal high-fives me.

9:53 PM Off in the corner I see Roommate’s Girlfriend hula hooping. She’s a cute little thing, moving her hips to the beat of the music in her skimpy hippy outfit. I decide to do something about my desires, paying no mind that she is somebody’s relationship partner. “I’m gonna have to tell her!” I announce to TheJackal. Tell her what, he has no clue. I swiftly saunter off in her direction.

9:54 PM She sees me walking over and we start talking. She shows me moves with her hula hoop. I don’t even attempt to hide my motivations; libidos are soaring and inhibitions are nonexistent. I blurt out, “Can I tell you something?”

“Yes,” she responds, coyly. The look on her face suggests she is expecting to receive a compliment, like how pretty I find her in some dashing, nice guy manner.

“I would fuck the shit out of you right now.” Forming sentences is hard enough at the moment; forget charm and decency.

She looks at me aghast. “Woah.” Letting out a laugh of astonishment and gesturing with her hands, she takes a step back. “Not cool!”

Tact has never been a strength of mine, especially not while tripping this hard. I had assumed we would now be dancing with each other. Instead, she walks away to find her boyfriend.

10:02 PM I wander back to TheJackal and explain that I struck out very matter-of-factly. He doesn’t judge.

10:29 PM The show comes to a close and the band exits the stage. Theater lights come on and the sudden brightness is appalling. We spend some time wrapping up our emotional affairs following the majesty we just watched. Getting up from the table and funneling in line to go outside, we realize we must sprint to the truck in the freezing cold and drive back home.

11:05 PM It probably wasn’t wise to drive but we prove clear headed enough to make it back to my house in an uneventful truck ride. After settling in, TheJackal lights up a dab and takes his hit. When he fires one up for me it isn’t but a few minutes before I’m seeing impossible visions. Coupled with a full nitrous balloon and the visuals are so striking they replace, almost entirely, my sight of the living room. When I go find a fuzzy blanket I had recently purchased, I’m delighted to find the visual hallucinations changing when I touch it.

12:30 AM We put on our coats and slip outside, onto the back deck. The late March air is crisp and the atmosphere is silent. We sit down in chairs resting next to the barren pool, frozen and unused for many months. Looking upwards, I behold a most spectacular view. I discover the darkened sky curved like a dome and divided into four quadrants. The stars are entangled in a web, shapes and silhouettes fill the celestial canvas, and a gradient of iridescent hues drifts down against the curve of this dome-like overlay.

Candyflipping remains my most intense drug experience. Although TheJackal and I had a great deal of LSD and MDMA use separately, combining them was a first for both of us. Their mixture is not for the beginner and calls for reserving plenty of preparation and recovery time. We didn’t know we would be awake for the next 30 hours after dosing the LSD. Admittedly it is disrespectful to use these substances out in public; however, there are situations that could be seen as acceptable departures from the rule. Transformative, epiphany-filled inner voyages can still be had watching your favorite artist perform live.

ToddDeVault.com