More Ludes

From a female friend in Palm Beach; I remember 'ludes well. I have a story about thinking I had a brain tumor and/or an allergy to rum because I kept passing out after I had a couple of daiquiris on a boat that was in harbor and coincidentally had very good drugs. I'd wake up at 4AM, splayed out on deck, sometimes in the rain and had no idea what had happened. This went on all summer and I actually went to Providence and saw a neurologist who did a brain scan. He said nothing was wrong with my brain but the episodes persisted. I switched to vodka but I still passed out. I also was a regular on the boat as there were other perks that I couldn't resist. After the summer, the boat left for the Caribbean and suddenly my blackouts stopped. A year later the mate confessed to me that the captain had been crushing up ludes and putting them in my drinks. The captain was a Welsh pig and I hate to think what really happened to me but I never asked nor do I want to know. Another time, I handed out half a lude to a fellow passenger on a flight from St. Maarten to NYC. After about a half hour he said nothing was happening and asked for the other half. I gave it to him reluctantly because he was a lude virgin and I didn't know how well he'd hold up. The last time I saw him, he was curled up on the baggage carousel at JFK, going round and round while his parents looked on in horror. I got out of there fast and made a note not to share with strangers.

Extinct Ludes

From a friend My favorite quaalude adventure took place @ the Hyatt Regency Hotel sunday afternoon tea dance in the gigantic lobby that had a fountain in the center w/a bench surrounding the pool of water. My 3 friends & I had taken quaaludes on our way to the dance and by the time we arrived, we were obliterated. I sat on the bench for a few minutes, then laid back into the pond and fell in completely under water with all of my clothes on. I remember being underwater, looking up and hearing the muffled sounds of the orchestra and thinking how serene it was. At that moment, a security guard reached in and pulled me out by my shirt collar. He stood and watched me as I took off my boots and dumped the water into the pool, then when I took my shirt off and wrung it out he politely told me shirts were required so I put it back on. He then walked away and left me and my equally wasted date to ourselves. Later that evening, I slept through an entire Lou Reed concert still wearing my soaked clothes. oblivion is always easier to achieve than enlightenment - james steele

Curse Of No Sex

Witches were fearsome creatures in my youth. These wanton women consorted with Satan and their roaming succubi seduced the souls of pure men. Throughout the 70s and 80s I ran into their decadent descendants finally meeting Elena, a Spanish flamenco dancer. We lived together in my East Village apartment for several months. My bed became a sexual circus maximus. The dark-haired twenty year-old became good friends with the ancient four-foot-three bruja next door. Mrs.Adorno and Elena chanted Santeria songs between glasses of sweet white wine. Each time she returned from these pagan rites with Senora Adorno, I feared for the loss of my soul to her passion. I was not Elena's only lover. Her lust was insatiable. My jealousy triumphed over lust and I threw her out in the summer. Elena cried upon saying good-bye to Mrs. Adorno. That night the old senora laid dry chicken bones on my doorstep and her crackling voice spat out a curse in Puerto Rican. "You will never have sex again." I didn't need subtitles to decipher her punishment, but I laughed with the macho pride to hide my fright. "Laugh, but you see not funny." She slammed the door in my face. funny it wasn't, for Mrs. Adorno's spell led to a long stretch of celibacy. No woman wanted me. Several months later I begged the shrinking witch for mercy, which she gave it with a smile. "Not funny?" "Not funny." I hadn't held hands with anything, but a beer can since Elena's forced departure. "We live close for 20 years and you do nothing wrong, then you hurt this girl." "You're right." I had been wrong to throw out Elena. I missed more than the sex and started to tell her an excuse. She cupped her clawlike hands over her wrinkled ears. "Say nothing. You suffer enough." She spat on the floor and sketched an arcane sign in the air. "Now you have sex again. But not like before." "Something is better than nothing." "Now you know." And knowing makes believing easy.