Just Say ___

I’ve never been one to take drugs, prescription or illegal. Sure, I had my obligatory pot phase that lasted from the end of my senior year in high school to the following fall, but Mary Jane is the sweet and innocent girl at the dance; you only get in trouble if you get caught with her, and I’ve always shied away from harder things. This may be due to a reverse form of rebellion, as both my parents did hard drugs and I witnessed the negative effects it had on their lives, and my own by proxy. I never wanted to be a slave to dependencies such as those. Plus, I found my niche in alcohol…

Anyways, I had two teeth pulled on Thursday. The doctor prescribed Vicodin as a painkiller, and goddamn those things work like charm. For years friends of mine have been hyping up the effects, usually in conjunction with drinking. I now see what all the fuss is about. My prescription was for 30 and one refill, and on the bottle it says to take 1 to 2 tablets (500mg) four times a day. Now, I’ve been taking only two of them a day, and it’s working just fine. I’m holding back a bit though; I actually wait until I feel pain to take them. But I can see the appeal; I popped one a few hours ago and felt like I was buzzing ten minutes later. Didn’t last long, but I certainly felt it.

I’ll admit that the temptation is there. Pop a pill and feel grand, and no need to run to the pisser every twenty minutes like when you’re drinking. However, the ease of it all is a bit sinister. I’m not used to the effects, or the rapidness that they come upon you. Also, I tend to look down on pill poppers as an uncivilized branch of the inebriated. Real men drink.

I doubt that I’ll even finish this first 30. I wonder what the street value is…