No Redemption

Here is an example of a trip undertaken with no higher motives whatsoever, only for decadent sense experience reasons.
A friend and I drove to Denver and rented a scummy motel room on Colfax, there were actually blood stains on the box spring of my bed. Nonetheless it was classy compared to some of the other places we looked at.
We got there in the afternoon and took a moderate dose, and hung out in the room for a couple hours and swilled beer and watched the freak show going on outside. The room was dark and cool so it actually wasn't too bad a place to trip, if you weren't too squeamish about cleanliness.
Once we got over the peak (and got a little juiced) we were ready to hit the street. There was a totally nude strip joint within walking distance, and that's where we headed. Needless to say the lights and music inside were kind of intense, not to mention all the philosophical implications inherent in going to a strip joint while tripping. It was easy to come to the conclusion that most of the dancers had had it pretty rough, and often weren't real bright. What an insight! But then you could pretty much say the same about most of the clientele, including yours truly, more or less. You can't drink at all nude clubs here in CO so we swilled O'Douls while we were there. This kept the booze from eventually dominating the trip (at least until later). One pretty young dancer came out dancing to Louis Armstrong, which sounded and looked damn good at the time, she could really dance and she was getting into it. The combination of everything was enough to make me cough up the swag for a lap dance for the first time (not that I regularly frequent nudie bars). Now of course at this point most feminists or decent types reading this are totally repulsed, but I can say I don't think this experience was degrading for either of us. It was certainly sensual for me, and my physical appearance doesn't displease most women (my personality takes care of that).
I told the dancer what I'd been up to that day, and she had no problem with it of course and wanted to know if I had more shrooms. Unfortunately I did not, but if I had they would have been hers. She was from Boulder, which is a damn long way (socioeconomically) from Colfax St. in E. Denver. Over all it was a good experience, though a little hard edged due to the cash for sexual experience nature but that's reality sometimes.
As we were walking back to our motel room, after spending a few hours at the club, some vato or brother threw a beer bottle at us, since we were two white boys walking in a bad place. Luckily it was a near miss, landing right at our feet. It was a cowardly act and no chance to retaliate, which was just as well since we were most certainly outgunned.
At the motel my friend made a call to set up a drug transaction. The drug in question was crack cocaine. Due to the effects of the trips we didn't even jones while waiting for the deal to go down, which is pretty much miraculous (no
I'm not a tweeker. For a while there I was doing the Evil, or Devil's Candy if you wish, once or twice a month, but have since stopped due to the essentially destructive character of the drug, like all drugs the CIA are involved with).
We had to go down the street a ways, to this trailer park off Colfax. You would never expect a trailer park to be in this place, in the middle of Denver. Inside the trailer were a few blacks watching a movie. 'Mama' was a woman in her 50's without any legs, sitting on the floor. She offered me her wheelchair to sit in, but I preferred a regular chair. Despite the dangerous location the whole scene was very chill, and we all yucked it up quite a bit. I was definitely on the right substance at the right dose to take all this in stride, coming from a mostly white, middle class town. We got our shit, took care of them and headed back to our room.
Here of course the night degenerated into a crack smoking, tweeker jones scene which is the antithesis of shrooming. Just as a curiosity I will mention that the residual effects of the shrooms did keep us from jonesing when the Evil was smoked up, so we were saved from having to pearl dive on that nasty carpet.
I know the above isn't pretty, and may even be shocking to some people, if that's possible any more. Nonetheless it's a true tripping experience, and I can't say I feel bad about it, even if parts of it I don't care to repeat, like towards the end.