Day 25 of 100

“What’s bottle service?”

A new club had opened up in Denver, and Rob wanted us to go and do bottle service.

“We buy a bottle of alcohol, and get a table and waitress to serve us. It’s fun, I used to do it all the time in New York.”

We went on the club’s website and reserved a table for the weekend. I later learned that a “hot” club didn’t do website table reservations. Perhaps that should have been the first clue.

We get to the club and are motioned to go around to the side door. Above it was a sign that said “VIP,” and I thought that was cool.

“What kind of alcohol should we buy?” I was handed the menu and started to go down the list. “$100 for Jack Daniels??!??! I could buy that at Safeway for $20!” Every bottle was so expensive. There was only one solution.

“Which one gets us the most drunk?”

We sat down at the table with a group of friends. As the waitress brought Patron Silver a groan rose up from the group. “Tequila! Yuck!” And everyone but Rob left.

We, of course, finished the bottle. After some time I was sitting at the table and a woman sat down and started to talk to me. I am barely a smooth talker when sober, so when drunk I am a sight to see. On the other side of me a guy sat down and pulled out a small vial. From the vial he extracted a small spoon that had some powder on it. He put in under my nose.

“Breathe in.” I did. And it was like God himself had put that cocaine up my nose. I felt amazing, invincible, clear headed. I knew that it was something that I had to do again.

“Here’s my number,” he said handing me a piece of paper as he and the woman got up and left.

“Let’s party some time.”

I think back to that moment a lot. What was there about me that said I would not only do cocaine, but love it? What was the vibe I gave off?

That was the beginning of a very long hard expensive road, and to think it all started in a club, at a table, with an empty bottle of tequila blows my mind.