Read Online Getting Higher by Robert T. Jeschonek - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Robert T. Jeschonek
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the jam, Rocky was dancing like a madman on a chair. In one hand, he held a brown bottle of beer, and he was snapping his fingers with the other; somewhere in the mass of humanity, music eloped from a stereo speaker, and Rocky's body moved with the beat. As he danced, his hips wheeled wildly, his head whipped back and forth like a catapult. His eyes were blissfully closed and he lip-synched, big mouth forming the words of the song playing. As he drunkenly teetered and twisted and hammered, he spilled jets of beer over the crowd, wringing irritated cries and curses from the guests. A fat, burly guy wearing a leather vest got mad, angrily turned around and punched Rocky's leg; normally, this would have sent Rocky into a rage, and would probably have started a fight. This time, however, Rocky didn't even notice. He ignored the fat rowdy completely in his pleasure, just went on spinning on the chair and singing soundlessly.
Posted near Rocky at the center of the gerbil franticness was another party magnet, Wanda. Surrounded by a ringlet of men, she swayed to the stereo rhythm with grace and lapped beer from a styrofoam cup. While Rocky clowned, Wanda laughed and talked, flicking her eyelashes and smiling at the attentive, boozy gang. Of all the women at Rocky's great party, she snagged the biggest crowd of all--and from the kitten glimmer in her eyes, it was clear she loved every minute of it.
Strangely, Wanda wasn't even very pretty. She had short, black hair that was parted in the middle and combed straight down on either side; her face was wide and oval, with small, dark eyes like blackberries. She wore tight jeans, which revealed a little too much fat, and a halter top which showed off impressive cleavage. Certainly, she was no more attractive than any of the other women at the party.
Her appearance, however, had little to do with her popularity. In fact, Wanda was a hooker, and was known to be generous in dispensing her favors. She was especially fond of unemployed steel workers, and felt, when she made one, like she was doing her part to help society. She even had special rates for the unemployed, to help out those men who were a little hard-up.
While everybody was in the living room and bedroom, drinking and blabbering and living it up, Joe and Crank were in the bathroom, tending the booze and getting thoroughly stoned. People constantly slid in and out of the little crevice, coming in with empty styrofoam cups and leaving with them full of beer and biting liquor. Joe and Crank were very generous with the booze, and made sure that everyone had more than enough to keep the party interesting. Crank stood by the bathtub and operated the keg resting there, tapping it every few minutes to fill someone's cup (or his own). Joe sat on the toilet seat, dumping cheap whiskey from some bottles on the floor and smoking a dwindling joint. Though they weren't out with the crowd, they still had a great time; they enjoyed playing bartender, acting like party bigshots...plus, they didn't have to walk far to get their own drinks.
Thanks to some last-minute shopping at the liquor store, Rocky's bathroom had been transformed into a well-stocked bar. The bathtub was packed with ice and a full keg of beer was stuck at one end; at the other end was a big bucket of strong red punch. The punch was Crank's recipe, sloshed together out of bottles and jars of every cheap juice and booze he could find. In the sink, there were bottles of gin and vodka, and on the floor by the toilet huddled ten bright bottles of whiskey. Rocky had really gone wild for this party, sunk every cent he had in a gleeful, crazy spree. Even for the herd in his apartment, there was plenty of everything to go around twice.
Two men entered the bathroom, and Crank refilled their cups with beer. Joe gave one of them a puff on his joint, and they went back to the clamorous living room. Joe laughed and took a drink of whiskey.
"Hey Crank," he said, raising his voice over the
Posted near Rocky at the center of the gerbil franticness was another party magnet, Wanda. Surrounded by a ringlet of men, she swayed to the stereo rhythm with grace and lapped beer from a styrofoam cup. While Rocky clowned, Wanda laughed and talked, flicking her eyelashes and smiling at the attentive, boozy gang. Of all the women at Rocky's great party, she snagged the biggest crowd of all--and from the kitten glimmer in her eyes, it was clear she loved every minute of it.
Strangely, Wanda wasn't even very pretty. She had short, black hair that was parted in the middle and combed straight down on either side; her face was wide and oval, with small, dark eyes like blackberries. She wore tight jeans, which revealed a little too much fat, and a halter top which showed off impressive cleavage. Certainly, she was no more attractive than any of the other women at the party.
Her appearance, however, had little to do with her popularity. In fact, Wanda was a hooker, and was known to be generous in dispensing her favors. She was especially fond of unemployed steel workers, and felt, when she made one, like she was doing her part to help society. She even had special rates for the unemployed, to help out those men who were a little hard-up.
While everybody was in the living room and bedroom, drinking and blabbering and living it up, Joe and Crank were in the bathroom, tending the booze and getting thoroughly stoned. People constantly slid in and out of the little crevice, coming in with empty styrofoam cups and leaving with them full of beer and biting liquor. Joe and Crank were very generous with the booze, and made sure that everyone had more than enough to keep the party interesting. Crank stood by the bathtub and operated the keg resting there, tapping it every few minutes to fill someone's cup (or his own). Joe sat on the toilet seat, dumping cheap whiskey from some bottles on the floor and smoking a dwindling joint. Though they weren't out with the crowd, they still had a great time; they enjoyed playing bartender, acting like party bigshots...plus, they didn't have to walk far to get their own drinks.
Thanks to some last-minute shopping at the liquor store, Rocky's bathroom had been transformed into a well-stocked bar. The bathtub was packed with ice and a full keg of beer was stuck at one end; at the other end was a big bucket of strong red punch. The punch was Crank's recipe, sloshed together out of bottles and jars of every cheap juice and booze he could find. In the sink, there were bottles of gin and vodka, and on the floor by the toilet huddled ten bright bottles of whiskey. Rocky had really gone wild for this party, sunk every cent he had in a gleeful, crazy spree. Even for the herd in his apartment, there was plenty of everything to go around twice.
Two men entered the bathroom, and Crank refilled their cups with beer. Joe gave one of them a puff on his joint, and they went back to the clamorous living room. Joe laughed and took a drink of whiskey.
"Hey Crank," he said, raising his voice over the
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