Don't ask me why I'm telling this story. I have just come out of a cough syrup, NyQuil, Zithromax, Tylenol haze and for some reason this story crossed my mind so I thought I'd blog it.
Back in my lazy, hazy hippy days of the early seventies, I was dating a pretty thing named Liza, the cousin of my good friend Jeff. I was crazy about this girl and wanted to impress her something awful so I bought two tickets to the Deep Purple concert at the coliseum in El Paso, Texas. The coliseum isn't in the greatest neighborhood in El Paso you see, so we arrived early so I could park in a half decent spot under some bright street lights. You can also add insurance by paying some local kids a few dollars to "watch" your car, which never happens but somehow your property does gain some respect.
We were seated in the concert hall and already the place was packed with freaks. The air was cloudy with smoke and even the cops at the entrances were red-eyed. Suddenly the lights dimmed and the opening band came out. The guy sitting next to me nudged me and passed me a small pipe, which I took a generous hit off of and handed to Liza.
The rest is pretty simple...
The opening band was great. Hell, after the hit off that pipe, EVERYTHING was great. The opening band got done, they turned on the lights in the coliseum, and I grabbed Liza's hand and we left. Outside we giggled, thinking we had the jump on everybody and would avoid the rush from the parking lots. We found my Volkswagen undisturbed, fired it up and off we went.
Normally, that drive would have taken about forty-five minutes or so. This time it took me nearly two hours to get home, I was so stoned.
It was Liza who figured out we were home awful early and eventually we figured out that we missed Deep Purple. Several of my buddies saw me at that concert and watched me leave.
I never lived that one down.
Hell, who knows.....maybe, "Some stupid with a hash pipe burned the place to the ground."