9:30 AM - Shopping With Granny
Category: Life

From time to time, even though a young teen, I sometimes hung out with my grandma. One December I was staying with grandma Mansell in Tulsa. And all of a sudden she jumped up and said, “We’re goin’ Christmas shopping!” tossing me the keys to her car, “Here, you drive.” Grandma didn’t know I’d just taken two hits of acid and ten hits of speed. My friend from a couple of streets over had just sold me some windowpane and methtabs. A hundred for twenty-five for the speed. And five bucks a hit for the LSD. Pulling the big boat of an Impala out of the driveway, I could already feel my hair starting to tingle and stand on end. It was all I could do to keep my mouth shut and lead foot off the gas. Halfway to Brookside I was literally wired for sound. Why did we have to go shopping right now granny? Why the fuck now?

Headed north on Peoria, my knees were knocking and teeth a chatterin’.”Slow this car down son!” my grandma yelled as I ran the stop light at 51st and Skelly. “Sorry grandma, I thought I could make it”. By the time we got to Shopper’s Fair I had cottonmouth from hell! Stopping at a soda machine on the way in the door, I bought a Coke and downed it in a single gulp. “What’s wrong grandson? Were you thirsty or what?” Grandma Mansell obviously noticing something was wrong. Once inside the store I felt like people were staring at me. Riding the escalator to the 2nd floor, I tripped when the automated stairs met the still standing floor. “Quit being so clumsy Allen!” said my grandma pointing toward a row of shopping carts. “Go get me a buggy!” Moving through the store, my skin tingled and my eyes bulged out of my head. A lady sales clerk smiled and I imagined her making a stabbing motion as if she were putting a syringe in a vein in her arm. It wasn’t enough that I was speeding, now I had to start hallucinating too!

I toyed with item after item as grandma tossed them in the cart. The Ferbie she chose felt soft to the touch and seemed as if it were looking at me. The cordless phone she put in the basket rang and a voice from above said, “Tripper! It’s for you!” Damn couldn’t we cut this shopping trip short? The muzak on the speaker system was driving me bananas. Nothing but Christmas songs and truthfully I wasn’t in the holiday mood. All I wanted to do was get back in grandma’s car and mash the gas for home. A chick in a short skirt and tank top caught my eye. The words on her shirt read, “2FAST’4U”, and I wondered to myself if she too might like a few hits of speed. Finally, we made it to the checkout stand. The lady cashier was dressed like one of Santa’s elves and the sackboy looked like a rein-deer. Everyone was in the Christmas spirit. Everyone but me that is, and I was whacked out on acid and speed.

Back in the car, grandma asked me if I wanted something to eat. Said she’d treat me to McDonalds, all I had to do was drive. “No thanks grandma,” I said. “Can’t we wait to eat when we get back home?” “What’s wrong with you child? There’s sweat on your brow and your skin is so pale. Why it looks like you’ve just seen a ghost!” “Nothing’s wrong with me granny.” I said quickly trying desperately not to bust myself out and laugh. “Where do you want to go next? I’m just a little bit hot, that’s all.” The next place we went was Crossroads Mall. Once again people seemed to gawk and stare. Even a dog on a leash looked at me crazy seemingly to know I was high. Talk about some “go fast”. The methtabs I took that day had to be some of the best I’d ever done. I’d taken Christmas trees, black mollies and even Preludin. None held a candle to the plain old cross tabs I ate that day. I was so high I vowed once I came down never to take speed or acid again. Leaving the mall parking lot, I accidentally backed into a car. “Shit!” 1 said. “Oops! Sorry grandma. I didn’t mean to cuss.” “It’s okay son, just haul ass before the cops get here!” Surprised at my 65 year old granny’s candor, I put the pedal to the metal and got the hell out of Dodge. Driving with my left, I placed my right hand on top of the seat. Suddenly grandma put her hand on top of mine. “Why is your hand so cold and sweaty? Are you on dope?” “No! No grandma no!” “You’d better not be! You know that old Dean Martin is strung out on dope. I’d hate to see you ruin your life with that shit!” Where my grandma Mansell ever got the idea Dean Martin was a junky, I’ll never know. But that was the second time she’d said that shit over the years. Cruising down Sheridan, I did my best not to break the speed limit and keep my eye on the road. When was this shit ever going to wear off? All I could think of was I was sure going to kick my friend’s ass when I got back home.

Approaching the river bridge, an Oklahoma Highway Patrol got right on my bumper. Adjusting the rearview mirror, my granny knew I was in a sheer state of panic and something was obviously wrong. Right as she turned to look over her shoulder, I stuffed the remainder of the hundred lot of pills down the front of my jeans. The problem was, I felt the baggy tear and the pills start to spill. “Watch your speed son. The goddamn fuzz is right on our tail!” Looking down at the speedo, I must have swerved some into the left lane. Sweating bullets as the pills in my pants were now hitting the floor, I looked in the rearview and saw the red lights and the Trooper calling in our tags. “Fuck grandma! We’re in big trouble!” is all I could think to say. Why did this shit have to be happening to me? Here this fucker was, he’d appeared out of nowhere and now me and grandma were both going to jail! As I pulled over on the shoulder, I felt the bulk of the pills come rolling down my leg. Knocking on my window wearing cheap mirrored shades, I panicked at the sight of the Trooper! (Oops! Out of ribbon! To be continued yet another day!) I am Tripper! Better Days!

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