The Ecstasy Cloth Story

Another command performance. Hmmm, first it was cat puke and now it’s the Ecstasy Cloth Story. Disturbingly I see a trend.

Anyway, I once had a friend in college by the name of John who was a cool if pessimistic soul and a bit of a substance abuser. I swear the only time he was actually friendly (which in itself was rather creepy) was when he was stoned. The only time he got stoned was when he would listen to Dylan. The dude had every Dylan album ever pressed or bootlegged so chances were he was listening to some sort of Dylan on any given day. If you happened to walk by and hear Dylan from his room, it was a fair bet that he was stoned and in a great mood which usually added up to a fairly entertaining evening.

So one day he and his good bud Zak (or whatever his good bud’s name was) drove to Cleveland or somewhere to catch a Dylan concert. They toked a few because, if I understand it right, you can get thrown out of a Dylan concert if you are not some sort of stoned and after the gig they went for pizzas to quell the inevitable munchies. Then, back at the hotel, Zak decided he was going to invent a drinking game that involved a shelf of liquor, a shot glass and a race to see who could drink the farthest and fastest through the selection. By the wee hours, my friend John was in sorry shape.

At some point in time, Zak noticed that John had not only quit playing the game, but was lying on the bed turning various shades of green and eying the garbage can with intent. Zak, being less messed up, insisted that John relocate to the bathroom where the toilet lived rather than trust that John actually still had the capacity to aim for the garbage pail. John was all about lying on the bed and not moving but eventually Zak got John up and wedged against the wall and the toilet. John promptly yacked up everything including last nights dinner and lay there limply bemoaning his fate. Being a nice pal, Zak went and got a cool wet wash cloth to put on John’s forehead.

John described the feeling as the most perfect moment in his life. In one small square of fabric he felt the well being of his soul comforted through the coolness of the terrycloth as it lay on his forehead. His entire being cried out and was comforted by this cloth and a special bond was formed. His only focus was on that cool delicious salvation of a towel as it soothed his cares away with its comforting moistness. Unfortunately, John’s stomach wasn’t through having its say and up came lunch a knocking.

John leaned over and yarked up the other half of lunch, last night’s dinner and maybe some midnight snack from two evenings ago and to his dismay, the cloth came off of its perch and fluttered down into the black churning mess below. As he put it, the thing that kept him separated from eternal damnation was now floating among the half chewed pizza slices and extraordinary amount of alcohol he had just thrown up. So he did what anyone in his situation would do, he fished the cloth out and stuck it back onto his forehead where it belonged.

Zak came back in to find John happily reacquainted with his cloth and sporting a blissful smile and a pepperoni here and there. Being a good friend, he tried to explain to John that he didn’t have to reuse the filthy cloth, in fact he had another one right there that he could make up for John if he would just remove that nasty thing from his forehead. John looked up at his good friend in wide eyed wonder and said “Oh! They give you two of these here? Wow!”

Comments are closed.