My apartment complex had a new car lot in front of it with working oil pumps in the parking lot. When some of the other tenants at the complex found out I was a DJ at KWIC, they wanted to come by and say hello. When they found out I was the man behind the station's new sound, my apartment became a hang-out.
Every night was a party night back then. I had teens and young adults smoking pot, drinking, dropping acid, and quaaludes every night in that apartment. Of course, beautiful teenage girls were trying to seduce me, but I knew not to jeopardize my job, even when I was loaded.
Pat had ended my days as a virgin, but there was a big difference between making love to Pat and having sex with random, too young, great-looking sex machines.
One night as I was sitting on my couch talking to some of my neighbors, a new girl came in. It seems that she had some windowpane acid she wanted to sell. She had a hundred hits in an oversized capsule. I told her that I would take three. Others were buying a few as well.
When she opened the capsule, it popped open, and the windowpane went flying and landed mostly in my shag carpet. She had a hundred, but all she found was around seventy.
After everyone left that night, I got out the blacklight that I used in my bedroom to make posters look cool. You see, windowpane acid reflects under a blacklight. I found twenty-seven hits! Party on Garth.
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