The Morning After

All Bonnaroo Saga posts: tag/Bonnaroo 07

Recreational Chemistry by moe. w/Warren Haynes
[audio:http://www.archive.org/download/moe1999-08-04.eac.flac16/moe1999-08-04d1t06_64kb.mp3]

Sunday morning I woke up around 8. I somehow managed to ignore the blistering heat of my tent for an hour longer than I had on previous days. So when I got up and out of my tent people were already awake. Melissa was up, but I think she went back to her tent shortly after to go back to sleep. Charles was hanging out of the tent halfway, so he could get equal parts cool temperature and privacy while he slept.

One thing that surprised me was the amount of people packing up that early in the morning. They knew there was music that night, right? Silly people, going back to their lives. I guarantee you that Monday morning was the hardest morning they had all year.

I was sitting around the table eating my breakfast with the two others who were up when we hear “Doses! Doses for breakfast!” A guy was heading towards the center of the crossroads selling his wares. At that time, he only had acid and shrooms. None of the folks at our site bought anything, but he decided that he liked us, or at least liked out shade, and stayed for a while.

This guy’s name was Hopper. He said he’d been up since Friday on acid (and I assume various other drugs…you’d need more than that to go for three days straight). “Doses! Doses and mushrooms! Doses for breakfast!” He had a shitload of acid for sale, all kept in these little Trojan condom boxes (they had a booth handing out single-serving samples). The mushrooms went fast, but he replenished his supply as other people passed by with stuff for sale. But he never ran out of acid. When we commented on this he told us “Enough to kill a baby.” We laugh, but he quickly tells us, “No, really. I’m trying to finance an abortion.” Apparently he got his 17 year old fuck-buddy (not girlfriend, he made the distinction) pregnant, and her mom would freak if she knew. Hopper is absolutely ridiculous.

As attractive girls walked by, he’d call out “If I follow you home will you keep me?” or “Hey! Would you like a snuggle-buddy?” The latter got a maybe. When a mounted policeman came through the crossroads, Hopper stopped selling so overtly, but he called out “Hey! I really like your horse!” and “I wish I was into bestiality!” going over to pet it. I should mention that as he left to go pet the horse or sell some drugs, he left about $400 worth of acid on our table. Eventually, the other guys at our site caved in and bought some from him (it was $5 a hit; half the price of most dealers). A few minutes later one came over and asked Hopper,
“Do they work if you swallow it?”
“No, that you’re supposed to keep it under your tongue.”
“I know, but I accidently swallowed it, will it still work?”
“Not really.”
“Alright, gimme another.”
I never found out if they were bunk or not. I left these folks before it kicked in, but Hopper might be the funniest dude I met all fest.