It was coming up to be my birthday. Some people don’t like to celebrate their birthdays, but I love to make a big deal out of it.
I was turning 22 or 23 (it doesn’t really matter after 21) and I decided that I was going to have a tea party. I had been doing self-taught calligraphy and buying weird old tea sets from thrift shops in the area. Therefore, I had all the makings for a fancy tea party with fancy invitations.
My band mates, I, and another musician, lived in a tiny house on a tiny street. There were 4 of us total. Each of us had our own room. Mine was the back room with the water heater. It was so small I put up ceiling corner hammocks (normally used for extensive stuffed animal collections) to hold my clean and dirty clothes.
The Lincoln house, as it was called, was a great place to live. It wasn’t unusual for us to be drinking, smoking pot, or jamming (that means playing music). And so this tea party was obviously going to be more than just drinking tea–especially since it was going to be my birthday.
I bought some fancy cards to make the invitations, and did all the invitations by hand with my calligraphy pens. On the back of all of them I splattered ink so that when you put all the invitations on the floor together they would all fit together like a puzzle. I also gathered my European and Japanese tea sets.
I invited. I think, 8-10 people. It wasn’t going to be a big party like we normally had. And I wanted to make sure that people didn’t come that weren’t invited. This gathering was going to be a bit different. It was crucial that I knew exactly who was eating these scones and drinking this tea. Because… I baked hallucinogenic mushrooms into the scones.
Everyone was to dress in formal attire. Everyone did. And we all looked fabulous in that old boxy house. There were at least 2 girls and 6 guys in attendance.
I had to make sure that each guest ate a scone and that nobody ate 2. I announced that everybody had to at least try the scones because I made them myself for the party, and it was my first attempt at baking scones. There were 2 flavors, just in case someone didn’t like one. One was orange and honey and the other was cinnamon raisin.
No one suspected the scones.
Everyone at least tried a scone and most of them ate the whole thing. I ate one too. After about maybe 15-30 minutes people started feeling weird. Some looked curious, but most were beginning to furrow their brows in confusion. I had decided to keep my cool for as long as possible before I let everybody know what happened, or better said–what I had done to them all.
I went upstairs to the restroom. My good friend Jordan followed me up there to inquire privately about what the crap was going on. Josh came as well. They inquired along the lines of,
Hey man, what’s going on here? Because something obviously is.
I told them what I did and they were relieved to realize that they weren’t going crazy. Although they had incorrectly assumed, still, that I had put something in the tea.
“Not so my friends,” I said “nobody suspected the scones.”
Jeremiah came up at that point and saw our smiling faces.
He looked right at me.
“You son of a b***h”
We busted up laughing
“This is awesome, but… you son of a b***h.”
Continued in Part 3
As the evening went on I was pretty proud that no one had a bad trip and that I pretty much kept track of everybody. Jordan was arranging tea sets and taking pictures, I carved a jack-o-lantern to look like it was puking out its pumpkin guts…
That was of course until Scott threw open our front door and it slammed against the living room wall.
“What is happening to me?” He shouted, slurring. “I can’t get drunk!”
Oh no. Scott.
Apparently I had not noticed that soon after eating the scones Scott had left and went to a couple keggers around the neighborhood. I guess he had been drinking all night and in his heightened or elevated mental state he became under the impression that alcohol was having no effect on him. Obviously I felt bad. I still do. As he stood in the front doorway Jordan and I quickly explained that there were mushrooms in the scones. As soon as the information sunk in he leaned back against the corner of the wall, slid down until he was sitting, and promptly fell asleep or passed out.
Other than what happened to Scott, and that this weasel kid sneaked in and stole the rest of the scones, the party was a success.