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When I was eighteen, one of my very closest friends got his hands on a very small peyote button. Fresh. We needed to split it five ways... three for him and two of his brothers, and two for me and my friend Darlene.
He took a razor blade to it to get each of those white tufts off it, because that is the poisonous part that makes you sick, and extremely carefully plotted out equal parts of it for each of us to chew up, swallow and wash down with Coca Cola to get the taste out of our mouths.
We then proceeded to a place call MacDevitt's Pool, where we could be together without bothering the general population, and play basketball even though we lacked any ball. I was pretty good at basketball as a young lady, and I was the star player in our utterly balletic and completely non-competitive basketballess game. I won.
If anyone had witnessed it, they would've scoffed and shaken their heads. The five of us would have felt sorry for them.
pipe up any time....
