Molly is Not For Dogs
How do these people find me? One minute, I'm just a blonde girl in a sequined crop top coming back from a Lucky Cheng's midnight drag show with a hankering for a pizza and the next...a drug mule. But not in a sexy way a la Orange is the New Black. Nope. Not so lucky. Here's a transcript of how a stranger-danger, my dear bunny friend Alex and I made a new acquaintance.ME: Hey! Buddy! You better not buy that last slice of pepperoni when you've got two hungry women with their eye on it!
STRANGER DANGER: I'm getting cheese.
ALEX: That's fine. Continue, and have a quality life.
STRANGER DANGER: What did you girls do tonight?
ME: WE WENT TO A DRAG SHOW AND I HAD A LOT OF DRINKS THAT WERE NAMED AFTER NICKNAMES FOR VAGINAS! And it rained a lot! But we rallied! Because we are fun! This is a puke and rally group of girls I tell you what! ALEX: Mr. Stranger Danger, what do you do?
STRANGER DANGER: I'm a chef at Mission Chin---
ME: MISSION CHINESE!? I want to go there more than all the things but there is always a damn line! We hate lines!
ALEX: We hate lines.
STRANGER DANGER: You girls should come tomorrow with your bachelorette group and I can hook you up with a table.
ME: YES! We'll be there!
ALEX: No.
STRANGER DANGER: Well, whatever you guys end up doing have a great night, great weekend, enjoy that pizza, and here's a little something to keep it fun. Open your hand. And don't look at what I'm putting in.
(SD puts small molly pill wrapped so cute in my hand. I obviously look directly at it.)
STRANGER DANGER: I said not to look.
ME: I know I'm sorry...what is this?
STRANGER DANGER: ...molly...e....
ME: Oh, um. Thank you so much this is incredibly generous of yo---
ALEX: We're going.
Now, I don't write about this experience to share with you my personal feelings about recreational drug use. I share because, in that one exact moment I felt very cool. Like, high school Bligh that spent most of her free time singing "We Do Not Belong Together" into a mirror practicing the Bernadette Peters single-tear technique felt very, very validated. I'm cool! ...kinda!
You know what's not cool? When you come back to your apartment and retell this story to all your friends and lose the molly. And then the next day you half-heartedly look for it, and decide maybe it got thrown away? You don't give it a second thought. Until your dog starts acting kinda weird...at first he's so lovey and running from one side of the apartment to the other being like, "Let's go to the clubs! I love my life!" And then he gets really, really sweaty and dizzy and he keeps having this totally fictional conversation with NOONE about how the government is spying on him and how he is secretly married to Rachel Ray but that we can't tell anyone. And then he sleeps for like, four days. I don't even know what that's about. But it's definitely not my fault.
If you need me, I'll be in line at Mission Chinese. Namaste.
