Skimming With Angels

Skimming with Angels

At seventeen my doctor decided to swap my treatment for acme from a rub on cream to strong antibiotics, minocycline. This came partly as a relief since the clear cream she gave previously did not rub in properly, no matter how much or how little I used. After a while the cream would set and become an invisible film, which you could peel off in great sheets, if you were careful enough. Inevitably I peeled it since after a while the film would become loose and hang off my face like some dejected horror film makeup, you had to be blind not to notice it.

The first night I went out having taken my daily dose, I was once again in the New Inn pub with Dog and Paul O’Leary. I had ordered myself a pint with the opinion one would not hurt when Dog enquired why I was taking it slow since the pint would probably evaporate but I drunk it.

“I’m on antibiotics.”

“You can still drink when you’re on antibiotics, just makes them ineffective”

“His right”, joined in Paul and I suddenly found myself sitting opposite two chemistry experts. I was reluctant for all of ten seconds and then I was back on the beer wagon. Next round was another pint and a double southern comfort. My usual.

I remember commenting on later after a couple of more rounds I felt a little light headed although never been able to take pints like I could spirits I felt it was no big deal. Mixing and chasing gave you rushes and the alcohol kicked into the blood stream.

Later, we met up in the pub with Liz and Rachel, who were also New Inn regulars who were a little younger than us. Dog fancied Liz and somewhere along the line it was decided we would all go to the Garry Owen, a nightclub which at the time had a reputation for trouble due to the odd stabbing and fights which broke out from time to time. I was reluctant at first, nightclubs where for dancing and what the hell did I know about dancing I was a death metal fan.

Needless to say in some drunken teleportation fashion I found myself standing in the foyer of the Garry Owen, wondering why the girls were putting their coats into the cloakroom since at the end of the night they were going to have to queue to retrieve it and going by the amount of people putting their coats away, it was going to be a hell of a wait.

Walking through into the club made me wonder what people saw in the place. It was a large open space, broken with tall drinks tables and filled with bodies to the point that you could not walk without knocking someone’s elbow. The bar was right the other side of the room flickering between the gaps of people’s heads, while to the sides were narrow seating areas. Despite the music the place had the atmosphere of an empty slaughterhouse.

Somewhere along the line I found myself with another pint, no double southern comfort chaser at club prices. Maybe my fourth, my fifth or sixth pint, I could not remember, not that it mattered anyway.

The rest of night fragments to the end with little pieces I can remember along the way.

The toilets where tiny compared to the capacity of the club, it was almost like walking into a room, which had been fitted out after the architect had spotted he had not planned for any toilets. You could not swing a cat in there and there was a steady flow of bodies in and out trying not to bump into each other.

Later, I remember treading on someone’s toes on the way back and not giving a fuck. Get used to it mate, there was not exactly space to spare in the place. Somehow we had got seats on the right hand side of the club about half way along and I took a seat with Dog and the girls.

Time was ticking on although I had no real idea what the time was, maybe midnight or one o’clock in the morning but then I had a strange realization, I began to realize the music and chatter of the crowd was like an audio blur. My mind toddled off and I forgot about the people around me. I rested my head on the back of the wall seating and closed my eyes.

Perhaps it is only when you listen that sounds suddenly do not mean much, they are just sounds; tones, pitch and rhythm, much like how if you say a word over and over it begins to sound meaningless and you wonder whether you are actually saying it right. I could hear a soup of sound, flowing in and out, sounds over sounds and I drifted with it before having a sense of being absorbed by the darkness with the flowing mesh of sound above me.

A sharp elbow in my arm stirred me to open my eyes.

“Stay awake!”

It was easier said than done. Maybe I was tired, drunk and tired or partly out of it on the potency of the antibiotics but when I closed my eyes there was a peace in the undefined sea of sound to drift upon. I could have quite happily closed my eyes, forgot about everything and slipped into the depths.

My eyes began to wane again and an elbow from Rachel once more stirred me while she called my name. Maybe four or five times I tried to drift off but there was always an elbow. Not that I cared. Fuck them. I had a detached feeling, almost distant from reality. The world was drowning in a soup of sound and I wanted to turn the lights off go swimming in the darkness and soup of sound.

The end of the night came and after waiting for the girls to collect their coats and packing them off in a taxi, Dog decided he wanted some food. I was in no hurry to get home, nor felt in a hurry to do anything, I sauntered along with him around the corner where the fast food restaurants where acting like magnets to drunks bellies.

Dog’s choice of nightly breakfast was chips. Standing inside the chip shop it felt like the lights where on ultra bright. Dog placed his order when someone he knew recognized him and struck up a conversation. I stood floating to the side. The smell of hot chips, pies, pasties and other delights failing to fire the appetite, I stood like a spare dinner waiting.

Dog introduced me before saying, “He has been drinking on antibiotics”.

“He is well fucked! Look at his eyes”

All I could do was look back from five faces behind a pane of glass. The mind was blank, for a brief moment I was like a mannequin in a shop window watching the world roll on but not a part of it.

Later, it was a taxi home with Dog, who dropped me off before heading home himself. I went inside, up to my room, stripped naked, got into bed and fell asleep instantly.

The next morning, I had left the house early to see my Nan, when I returned mid morning, I found Dog on the pavement outside my house.

“Fucking hell geez you got me worried, I thought you were dead”.

ED02-DC(?)