This is a part 1 of a story of a month long mdma bender in 2019. I am recalling the events by faint memory and what digital evidence I have left, as I am not in touch with anyone involved anymore.
The reckless, careless, dangerous, obnoxious and risky behavior described in this story, do not reflect me today. I strongly advise against abusing drugs, driving on drugs and smuggling drugs across international borders.
At a wedding, on a warm summer night, in the middle of nowhere, I met a guy from a neighboring country and we ended up doing drugs for days on end before he left back to his country. We had a lot of fun and he invited me to visit him sometime, and I promised.
October comes around and in a couple weeks, there is going to be a big techno festival in his city. Before he even had the chance to ask me if I'd come, I agreed and asked to bring a friend of mine. He agreed and I immediately jumped to work.
I open up my laptop, buy some bitcoin and in less than 2 weeks, a package of mdma and pills magically shows up at my friends door. Next day, I quit my job, packed my shit, bought an ounce of weed, told my mom I'll see her sometime and got on a bus to his city.
My friend picked me up at the bus station and immediately we started grazing away on our fresh german candy. Later on, we met up with some friends and spent the entire night doing drugs and driving around. The next day, we decide to rest until we leave for the festival, but as soon as I went to bed, my friend called and said he was on his way to pick me up with a bunch of other junkies. Needless to say, we spent that night getting fucked as well. Only one day left to rest before the festival.
By noon we go home and agree to sleep and lay off the molly as we want to be ready for the festival. But fate had us meet up again within hours. As day turned to night, we had about 8 hours left before we had to get on the bus. With our infinite wisdom, we decided to finish off the mdma we had and we spent the night driving around and doing molly. I have no idea how we didn't fucking die, I couldn't see shit and I wasn't even driving. We even knocked down a stop sign and every couple minutes or so, we were inches from running of the road or killing ourselves and other drivers unfortunate enough to be in our vicinity.
A couple hours before our bus we pop a pill each, go to his apartment and pack our shit and head to the bus station. We didn't sleep or eat for 3 days already and we ran through all of our mdma we planned to bring. Luckily we didn't munch through all the pills so we put them in bags and put them in our underwear and lit up a joint at 5 am on the way to the bus station.
Eventually in the bus, we succumb to the immense fatigue induced by 3 days of nonstop drug abuse and finally fall into a deep slumber. After several hours, we were awaken by the sudden chatter and movement of our fellow passengers. We have arrived at the border and reality suddenly dawned upon us. We are visibly pale and absolutely fucked, at an international border crossing, with bags full of pills in our underwear. We looked out the windows and noticed the vast amount of police and customs agents everywhere. I manage to keep my cool but my friend was visibly shaken by the sudden realization that our fate hangs on a thread.
The driver comes around and asks for passports, but we forgot one thing. I had a passport from a country that's not even on the same continent, and I was the only person in the bus with a passport not from the countries whose border we were on. And sure thing, not 2 minutes pass when I hear my name called by the driver. Everybody fucking turns around to see who he is calling and I rise up and head his way. He leads me to a customs agent who has summoned me to answer some questions. Every time she started a new sentence, I expected her to tell me to follow her into another room where she would inspect my luggage and my person, and both me and my buddy would be arrested and charged with drug smuggling.
After what felt like eternity, she lets me off and I go back to my bus. We where running late and everybody was waiting for me to come back. As I enter the bus, I notice everybody is looking at me. But one face shined at me from all the way back, my friend was at the edge of his seat, pale as if he witnessed genocide just seconds ago. As I walk through the aisle, I feel everybody's head turning towards me as I pass by. The bus was so silent, that you would hear a hair drop on the floor. I didn't even manage to sit down and already I was bombarded by questions, by fellow passengers as well as by my traumatized friend. The driver turns on the bus and off we go. The collective sigh of relief my friend and I let off as we finally crossed the border had the energy of a thousand suns. Not 15 minutes pass and we pull up to a gas station to take a break, and to celebrate we split a pill in the bathroom and get back in the bus. We made it and nothing can stop us now.
Continued in part 2
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