[Off-topic] Apex:
A story I wrote, based on actual events:

Gentlemen, we are floating... around the edge.

“It was the Law of the Sea, they said. Civilization ends at the waterline. Beyond that, we all enter the food chain, and not always right at the top.”

“The Edge... there is no honest way to explain it, because the only people who really know where it is, are the ones who have gone over.”

~HST

We took a trip, long ago, that would serve purpose only to blur the distinction between a simple escape to the far perimeters of the world and completely losing our minds.

We (the four of us) were a mismatched assembly of the weird and rejected. The Admiral -fearless navigator of our Shuttle, the Scientist –the very rootless and sometimes witless refugee, the Salesman –a mildly dangerous commodity, and I were indeed pygmies lost in a maze of haze.

This is a true story…

Crystal Beach during spring break of the mid `90’s was a fraternal grass fire, sweeping through with the speed of a gale force wind, consuming all in its path with fury of drunken mayhem and debaucheries. Absolute chaos, an indescribable display of true cavemen behaviorism, a freak show that one could only participate in at great risk of becoming a burned out, salty mess.

Our story begins with four friends. We had been within mere miles of the edge of insanity before, but we would soon find ourselves at its very doorstep. No need to knock, it knows we are there.

A trip taken to the beach would firstly have a mandatory side step to supply the necessary illegal substances. The Red Sunshine -paper LSD, the grass, the doses of ecstasy that I had folded tightly in an envelope were gathered as we bid temporary farewell to our security of the Fort. We were ready for the experience of a lifetime, which should only be experienced once.

By the time we stocked up and began the trek down the interstate it had already become late in the early evening. Bowlfuls of Mexican dirt weed and obscenely loud crust-rock fueled our minds. I don’t remember speaking, but there was a conversation taking place that we all were in on.

We managed to drive to a hotel on the last frontier of civilization, for by morning we would be in the New World. The Admiral had us stay in the Shuttle as he convinced the night clerk behind the desk that he had need for a room for only one. It worked... for a short while. The idea was to save money, of which we had little of. I mean, who needs a wallet full of dough when your plans involve only baking your mind in the sun and maybe having a sandwich at some point along the way?

The clerk made us pay after finding out the falsification of the Admiral. I suppose we were neglecting to recognize the local noise ordinances. And in response to this evil bastard demanding money or threatening police intervention, the next morning the room would be all but destroyed. A mixture of cheese, mustard, and Rum-infused vomit would be smeared across every square foot of every surface in the room, mattresses and other furniture would be overturned and stood up as dominoes, drapes were clogging toilets, and carpets urinated on… a housekeeper’s unimaginable nightmare come horribly true.

That next morning the short jaunt to the island delivered us to an immediate array of collegiate spring breakers, jock douche bags, and hoochies all full of booze. We aimlessly drove around the island for a while to see where we wanted to set up camp. We asked around to see where the hot spots were, and every answer was pointing us to Crystal Beach.

We arrived at the ferry to take us there, and we dropped the acid. I also swallowed a dose of ecstasy. I recall watching the afternoon sun on the water as the gulls sweeping passed our heads in a mocking, perhaps warning fluidity, but didn't feel anything yet. Consequently, the Admiral suggested that we eat more acid. We all agreed to this and took at two more hits.

We drove on the beach for a while, checking out the scene, and I starting to feel oddly familiar to this place. The Admiral also began to feel the same, so he piloted the Shuttle to a nice spot for he and I to collect our bearings and try to sort out all of this madness for a while. We set up the tent and proceeded to watch it go, as it were.

Our neighbors, who happened to somehow befriend our motley crew, began offering us beer after beer. We certainly need not refuse, for this is their home field. We are merely the visitors, trying not to get on anyone's bad side. Subsequently, the alcohol enhanced the already escalating mind trip.

There was an endless parade of cars, trucks, sport utility party personnel carriers that lined the edge of the beach. Girls, some topless, would cantilever over tailgates and occupy sunroofs as the male wildebeests looked on in fancy. A non-stop carnival of cooks, drunks, chumps, and tits.

At one point I remember, as I was walking along the beach, jumping on the hood of a Honda and holding on as the driver ran circles through the sand. It seemed as though his only mission at that particular moment was to kill me. We were both laughing hysterically.

By now, the journey took a turn and began to reveal itself to us. People’s faces were no longer there. They had been replaced with oozing lights and sounds. The introspective of insanity was taking hold. I felt like I was surrounded by dumb beasts, prehistoric animals from a lost time, complete with huge bonfires and the primal chanting of savage cannibals.

It was time to retreat… back to the safety of the Shuttle. The Admiral had turned every dial, button, lever and switch to the on position. Windshield wipers frantically waving in front of us, as to say “Get out, while you still have your heads!” Primus, or Helmet, or the Butthole Surfers blasted from the speaker cones kept our thoughts on this needless disturbance.

We were sticking out like four sore thumbs; long hair, ‘alternative’ attire, piercings, punk mentality. At one point my only resolve was dunking my feet in a beer cooler filled with ice cold water. It was the only thing keeping me together. I had checked out…

I must have then blacked out. I remember waking inside the tent. The hot gulf sun had been heating the nylon like a convection oven. We were all so strung out and wasted that the Admiral determined it was time to flee. By the time we returned to the Fort it was again dark. Our diet had been drugs, Camel cigarettes, beer –did we ever eat…? We had been in a time warp.

But we recovered in due time. A trip to mental disaster was narrowly averted, this time.

…or was it?

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