Taking MD for the first time was the only thing that made RAW good
My inner sesh gremlin was released
I’ve never been ‘in to’ drugs. I’ve smoked the occasional joint and once accidentally took a hallucinogen at a festival (but that’s another story). Not only that, I hate house music. I’m fully committed to nights in watching the Bake Off and I’m the furthest you could possibly get from a roadman, but last week I decided to drop at my first event.
Pre-sesh mainly consisted of the ceremonial bomb making and awkwardly standing around taking selfies. Dropping, especially for the first time, means that there’s a strict limit on alcohol consumption which for me was incredibly alien. Bombs in bra and sober as a judge, we jumped in a cab headed to RAW.
I’ve been to events with sniffer dogs and strip searches before, and despite plenty of reassurance I can’t say I wasn’t nervous about carrying class A drugs into the venue, but the security (much like the rest of the event) was underwhelming. I got in without hassle.
The damp walls and concrete floors were entirely uninspiring. The music was boring. The ‘edgy’ freshers that ran around with galaxy glitter French plaits were enough to get on your nerves. We soon decided to drop, although at first this didn’t help.
Everyone’s heard the horror stories about that one girl in college who took a pill, didn’t feel anything, took another and hit her high so hard her heart exploded. I did not want to be that girl. I had about 4 bombs of just under 0.1g and cautiously took one expecting at least to feel something. After two hours of repetitive bobbing to thumpy grime music, we tried again.
Common side effects of MDMA include sweating, extreme thirst, gurning and dilated pupils. Aside from being incredibly chatty and generally feeling great, at first I just became hot, but then I began to gurn. I chewed my way through one and a half packs of gum and still managed to mangle the inside of cheeks. My jaw had a life of its own as I demonstrated an array of highly amusing and unattractive facial expressions to the entire party. In contrast some of my friends looked as though their eyes were going to pop out of their head while others didn’t seem affected at all, but we all sweated through our clothes.
Our feet eventually gave out, so still pinging we retreated home where I began to chat all sorts on nonsensical rubbish. I distinctly remember exclaiming that I didn’t feel like me, but I felt like ‘Maggie from Egypt’ (a family friend I haven’t seen in 10 years). The shower I had that night was a truly religious experience. Clean, warm and happy I snuggled into bed and slept like a log.
Looking back you can bet your bottom dollar I enjoyed MD more than RAW. Every sober second I spent there was about as boring as a 9am grammar lecture, but as soon as my high hit I felt like I could dance for days. The night’s only redeeming feature was my consumption of class A drugs. If that’s what it takes to make an event good, is it worth forking out £15 for?