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11. Saturday, July 3, 1993: [3] <18.5>

LollaPaloozers.

LaLaPalooza. I went to Presidential Towers (a HUD development) and got a ride to Lalapalooza with five other guys, friends of Jay Duerr from Indiana. The car broke down on I-80 on the way, and some guy gave me and three of the Indiana dudes a ride to the concert while the other two stayed behind with the car.

Two doses of white blotter purchased from some short dude, at 3:50 followed by one more at eight something, during the Alice in Chains song JunkHead. My hands were shaking while I ripped off the last tab and put it in my mouth. The stage lights kept smearing downwards.

I was with three Indiana wiggers and I saw Dan Smith. I smoked him up with Dan and Marcus.
I got two of the Indiana dudes a ride home with Megan and the last dude and I were supposed to get a ride home with Amy Ujiki, Jamie and Darcy Mauer, these sophomore chicks, but they left early.

This guy and I stood around in the parking lot and finally he decided to spend for a cab at 10:30. This kid was telling me about how depressed he was, his dad gave him everything he wanted and still he was just depressed, and even comtemplated suicide. I was still fucked up, and did not want to listen to this. Nonetheless, I managed to provide a sympathetic ear and listened to him describe those times "when you get so depressed you just walk through the forest, smoke an entire pack of cigarettes and think about killing yourself." This for a forty minute cab ride. I noticed the cab driver checking this kid out in the rear view.

I arrived back at the Presidential Towers to confront the two left-behinds. They were sitting in a one room apartment with McDonald's cartons littered around them and watching Saturday Night Live or Showtime at the Apallo. The depressed kid started telling the other two how great the concert had been. Then they started telling drinking stories, like the one about the time they didn't want to stop drinking, so they all puked in a bowl whenever they needed to and kept on going. And more stories about drinking and violence.

I waited about as long as I could, and paged Sergio and he called me back and I had to answer all of one guy's questions about Sergio, how I knew him, where he, and his mother were from, what he did, where he lived, why I knew him, etc. I was sickened by all of it.

Three lost assholes stuck in a HUD development talking about drinking and violence and playing weird superiority games with each other. When the one started questioning my affiliation with minorities, I just couldn't take it, told them I was tired and left.

I called Cam's house from a payphone downstairs and told them to meet me at my house at 1:30 (it was 12:50). I walked through the neighborhood surrounding work (depressing) and finally caught a bus and sat in the back with a really funny drunk guy who told similar stories (similar to those told by the Indiana guys) but in a way that was much easier to enjoy and appreciate. He was much better natured then the others were.

I met the guys back at my house, we pulled hits off of Lionel (two foot glass bong) and relaxed until bedtime.

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