=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = F.U.C.K. - Fucked Up College Kids - Born Jan. 24th, 1993 - F.U.C.K. = =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= BUZZ ---- I had called Julie to go out since I figured she would be going nuts in her apartment by herself since Steve, her boyfriend and my co-worker and friend, had to go out of state for a family thing. We didn't really see each other unless we were both with Steve, but I wanted to be nice to her try to show her a little good will. Besides, she had been bugging me to take her to "one of those weird coffee shops" for weeks. I was a little concerned that she might feel slightly out of place if I took her to any of my usual hang outs, but she seemed undaunted when I explained to her that she would be hard pressed to find anyone here who didn't have a nose, nipple or tongue ring. I expected her to be revolted, but she was really dying to see some of the counter- culture. Like some kind of researcher, she wanted to see what "they" were like, first hand and maybe pull out a few sketches for her Monday night drawing class. We walked in the door and a boulder of cigarette and clove smoke rolled out the door just before it closed. Julie took a quick surveillance of the dimly lit cafe before deciding that we were to sit in the corner where she could get a good look around. I set up my little work area to write for my magazine and she puled out her drawing notebook, a few odd looking pencils and a mangled eraser. She lit one of her narrow, pristine cigarettes and held it delicately between her manicured fingers. We cracked small grins at each other in silence for a few seconds, not knowing quite what to make of the situation. I almost felt like I was trying to hang out with my mother. I pulled my manic hair up into a pony tail, peeled of my leather jacket and began writing without another moment wasted. Realizing that I wasn't going to chit chat, she consulted the menu and scanned it up and down and back again. After about eight minutes, the tattooed, pierced, violet haired waiter noticed our presence came by and asked us for our orders. "I'll have a double iced mocha" I said. "I'll try this Mind Melter thing," Julie said pointing to it on the menu. The waiter paused and looked at her doubtfully, as was I. "It's pretty strong," the waiter warned, "The boss was considering taking it off the menu soon due to all the legal threats." "You know Julie" I said, "you're not a real big coffee drinker. That might not be such a good idea." An expression of firm determination planted itself firmly on her face as she said, "No, I want to try it." "Okay," the waiter said shaking his head. He scribbled our orders down and walked back to the bar. I was on my second page when he returned with our two drinks. Mine was in an oversized mug and Julie's was in a large glass. The Mind Melter was an oily black and had the consistency of slightly thinned chocolate syrup. She picked up her glass and examined it for a minute like it was some kind of rare animal. She slowly brought it to her lips and cautiously sipped as though she believed it might actually sear her face off. She swallowed the first gulp and her whole body relaxed. "This is really good," she smiled. "I don't know what all the fuss is about." I nodded and continued writing. Within a matter of minutes, the Mind Melter was gone. Julie excused herself to the bar and returned already sucking down another one. "What the hell are you doing?" I snapped. "That's enough caffeine to kill a small horse." "Oh, stop it," she said joking defiantly. "I think I can handle it. To be honest, I don't think there's any caffeine in this thing." I returned to my pad of paper and tried to ignore her. Her second drink vanished almost as quickly as the first. As the last drop of sludge went into her mouth, she was up for another one. This one was gone before she even got back to the table. I noticed the waiter nearby and he was looking at us with something unmistakably like pity. Julie flashed me an innocent grin and sat back down to resume drawing. That's when it started. It was really subtle at first. Julie was only trembling a little. She toyed with her small diamondstud earrings and clacked her nails on the table. Every minute or so she would lay her pencil down and steady herself with a deep breath and/ or a cigarette. The quivers were soon replaced by full blown tremors. I could see her fidgeting around a lot as if she were covered in fleas. She was trying to hide it and continued to draw. I raised my eyes and watched her as she scrawled manically on page after page, each "drawing" nothing more that a mass of chaotic marks. She began flailing so wildly that the table was rocking, my mug was clacking around in its dish and the remains of my drink were spilling all over the table. "Are you all right?" I asked. She jerked back into her chair and started laughing. With every breath she got louder and higher in pitch. By now more than half the cafe was staring at us. Julie just looked around the room and kept right on laughing. With a sudden jerk, she shot out her arm and grabbed a handful of the sweetener packets out of the porcelain bowl on the table and proceeded to throw the little pink, white and blue wads at the other customers. When she emptied our bowl, she invaded the table next to us and rapidly fired off all of theirs as well. When both bowls of ammunition were empty, she jumps onto our table and began a new assault with half and half creamers. Everyone was shouting and blocking, but she kept right on going. Then, without provocation, her attention was diverted to the kitchen. She leaped from the table like a cat and scrambled through the doorway. Now, I didn't actually see her strip, but one by one her various articles of clothing came flying back into the cafe. Someone in back was yelling, "Leave those alone and get outta here." Then her voice shouting, "Your mailman has gravy in his shoes!" Julie came bursting back into the cafe, stark naked save her socks and a rubber glove she'd stretched over her head. She sprinted to the front doors dodging the scattered tables and plowed her way outside. Before the doors shut, we saw her take off down the street screaming "I'm a squid! I'm a squid!" Two guys in the corner applauded, and some girl burst out laughing but everyone else was staring at me as if I could even begin to explain what had just happened. The waiter had come back to the table without me noticing. He stood beside me, sporting the same bewildered expression I must have had. He chuckled a little, then turned to me and said, "I think we should take it off the menu now." -Wednesday =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = Questions, Comments, Bitches, Ideas, Rants, Death Threats, Submissions = = Mail: jericho@dimensional.com (Mail is welcomed) = =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= = To receive new issues through mail, mail jericho@dimensional.com with = = "subscribe fuck". 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