Singles Going Steady: Jane's Addiction's "Ocean Size"
Exactly when Victor started doing cocaine is not clear to me. I do remember when I first found out, though. Victor had just finished his sophomore year of college and I had just graduated from high school. He'd decided to stay in Columbus that summer to work instead of coming home, and I was pretty broken up about that in a very annoying, very teenager-y way. My dad took pity on me—rather, he didn't want to spend an entire summer hearing me cry and moan about how much I missed Victor. So he gave me permission to drive down to Columbus to go with Victor to Lollapalooza 1994.
We came back from the concert, all sunburned and ringing ears, and Victor and one of his roommates, Nick, had a party. They lived in one of those campus slum apartments on the South side of campus where the ratio of chained-up kegs to chained-up bikes with missing seats was 1:1. I was down in the living room, sitting with Alison. Alison was somebody's girlfriend—I was never quite sure whose. Alison was the sort of person who never talked to you first; she waited until you said "hi" or acknowledged her in some way, ignoring you until then. She had been one of the popular, cute-in-a-generic-way, super-trendy girls in high school, but college hadn't been as kind. Now she looked dull, like all the light had gone out of her. She'd adopted that lazy college-girl uniform of big, hooded sweatshirt (no doubt stolen from one of her boyfriends); too-long jeans with the back cuffs all shredded; puka-shell necklace; messy, half-assed ponytail; and some kind of Doc Martin sandals. I didn't like her, but she was friends with Victor and his friends (had dated most of them), so I resigned myself to the fact that she was always going to be around. Like a fixture, a drawer pull, a cabinet knob.
Alison was teaching me how to smoke a bong. "You have to really inhale," she said. "It's not like smoking a cigarette." She passed me the bong—green plastic with Grand Royal stickers decorating it—and lit the bowl while I sucked in. I couldn't get the water to bubble. "Try again," she said and held the lighter to the bowl. I sucked in as hard as I could and heard a gurgling sound. "You've got it," Alison said. "Now, keep going while I pull the stem out." When she did, I felt like my entire head was being drawn into the tube. A burning feeling crept into my throat and my eyes started tearing up. The huge cloud of smoke I exhaled made Alison laugh, "Damn! You've got some powerful lungs."
I started sputtering and coughing and felt like I wasn't going to be able to stop. My head felt light and tingly and once the coughing subsided, I couldn't stop smiling. I loved it, though my throat was incredibly dry. "I need a drink," I croaked, and stumbled into the kitchen. There were people everywhere and the floors were sticky from the keg. I got a beer and went back out to the living room to look for Victor, whom I hadn't seen in what seemed, then, anyway, like a very long time. He wasn't there, so I started upstairs.
The music, Jane's Addiction's Nothing's Shocking, was deafening; they listened to a lot of Jane's while they lived in that apartment. "Ocean Song" was blaring from Nick's bedroom and somebody was howling along:
Wish I was ocean size/
they cannot move you/
no one tries…
I suddenly felt like my ears had been packed full of cotton. People were yelling and singing and laughing and bumping into me. I started to panic because I felt a little out of my mind and nobody looked familiar. Fortunately, I ran into a very startled-looking Nick. "Hey—have you seen Victor?"
He looked at me then turned around and quickly turned back, "Uh, yeah. He's … on his way downstairs—soon."
"But is he in his room?" I started to walk toward it, but Nick stepped in front of me.
"Hey—come with me to get a beer." He grabbed my arm and tried to guide me back downstairs.
Behind Nick, down the hall, I could see two pairs of feet under Victor's door. "That's okay," I squeezed myself past him. "I'm fine." And I walked toward Victor's room. My head was throbbing and my sunburn started to hurt, too.
Victor's back was to me when I opened the door. There were two guys I didn't know standing there and they stopped talking when they saw me. Victor turned around, "Close the door," he hissed.
"That's okay, man," Random I said, "We're done. Late." Random I and Random II hurried out and Victor closed the door behind them.
"What was that about?" I asked. Victor was sniffling. "And why are you sniffling? What's with the mirror?"
He looked blankly at me, unsure whether to lie or be straight with me. I'd seen that look a lot. "They were doing some lines, okay? They didn't want to advertise it to the world."
I was pretty shocked. I mean, we were good kids from the heartland. Cocaine was a real drug. It never in a million years occurred to me that anyone I knew would ever get into real drugs—especially that one. We grew up in the Nancy Reagan, Just-Say-No 80s, right? We knew from watching "Miami Vice" that the bad guys were the ones with the drugs, and Crockett and Tubbs dealt out swift and mighty justice to the cocaine smugglers, while remaining blazingly fashionable. Like, every episode seemed to deal with the breaking up of some Colombian or Bolivian drug ring. Didn't Victor remember that? Didn't he know all the words to "Smuggler's Blues"? I sure did.
"Did you do it, too?"
Victor looked up at the ceiling, "Yes."
"Did Nick?"
He nodded.
"Have you done it before?"
Victor was getting irritated. "Iseult, it's no big deal, okay? Would you just relax? I only did a little bit." He kept pinching his nose and wincing.
Jane's Addiction, "Ocean Size," from the album, Nothing's Shocking
Released August 1988
We came back from the concert, all sunburned and ringing ears, and Victor and one of his roommates, Nick, had a party. They lived in one of those campus slum apartments on the South side of campus where the ratio of chained-up kegs to chained-up bikes with missing seats was 1:1. I was down in the living room, sitting with Alison. Alison was somebody's girlfriend—I was never quite sure whose. Alison was the sort of person who never talked to you first; she waited until you said "hi" or acknowledged her in some way, ignoring you until then. She had been one of the popular, cute-in-a-generic-way, super-trendy girls in high school, but college hadn't been as kind. Now she looked dull, like all the light had gone out of her. She'd adopted that lazy college-girl uniform of big, hooded sweatshirt (no doubt stolen from one of her boyfriends); too-long jeans with the back cuffs all shredded; puka-shell necklace; messy, half-assed ponytail; and some kind of Doc Martin sandals. I didn't like her, but she was friends with Victor and his friends (had dated most of them), so I resigned myself to the fact that she was always going to be around. Like a fixture, a drawer pull, a cabinet knob.
Alison was teaching me how to smoke a bong. "You have to really inhale," she said. "It's not like smoking a cigarette." She passed me the bong—green plastic with Grand Royal stickers decorating it—and lit the bowl while I sucked in. I couldn't get the water to bubble. "Try again," she said and held the lighter to the bowl. I sucked in as hard as I could and heard a gurgling sound. "You've got it," Alison said. "Now, keep going while I pull the stem out." When she did, I felt like my entire head was being drawn into the tube. A burning feeling crept into my throat and my eyes started tearing up. The huge cloud of smoke I exhaled made Alison laugh, "Damn! You've got some powerful lungs."
I started sputtering and coughing and felt like I wasn't going to be able to stop. My head felt light and tingly and once the coughing subsided, I couldn't stop smiling. I loved it, though my throat was incredibly dry. "I need a drink," I croaked, and stumbled into the kitchen. There were people everywhere and the floors were sticky from the keg. I got a beer and went back out to the living room to look for Victor, whom I hadn't seen in what seemed, then, anyway, like a very long time. He wasn't there, so I started upstairs.
The music, Jane's Addiction's Nothing's Shocking, was deafening; they listened to a lot of Jane's while they lived in that apartment. "Ocean Song" was blaring from Nick's bedroom and somebody was howling along:
Wish I was ocean size/
they cannot move you/
no one tries…
I suddenly felt like my ears had been packed full of cotton. People were yelling and singing and laughing and bumping into me. I started to panic because I felt a little out of my mind and nobody looked familiar. Fortunately, I ran into a very startled-looking Nick. "Hey—have you seen Victor?"
He looked at me then turned around and quickly turned back, "Uh, yeah. He's … on his way downstairs—soon."
"But is he in his room?" I started to walk toward it, but Nick stepped in front of me.
"Hey—come with me to get a beer." He grabbed my arm and tried to guide me back downstairs.
Behind Nick, down the hall, I could see two pairs of feet under Victor's door. "That's okay," I squeezed myself past him. "I'm fine." And I walked toward Victor's room. My head was throbbing and my sunburn started to hurt, too.
Victor's back was to me when I opened the door. There were two guys I didn't know standing there and they stopped talking when they saw me. Victor turned around, "Close the door," he hissed.
"That's okay, man," Random I said, "We're done. Late." Random I and Random II hurried out and Victor closed the door behind them.
"What was that about?" I asked. Victor was sniffling. "And why are you sniffling? What's with the mirror?"
He looked blankly at me, unsure whether to lie or be straight with me. I'd seen that look a lot. "They were doing some lines, okay? They didn't want to advertise it to the world."
I was pretty shocked. I mean, we were good kids from the heartland. Cocaine was a real drug. It never in a million years occurred to me that anyone I knew would ever get into real drugs—especially that one. We grew up in the Nancy Reagan, Just-Say-No 80s, right? We knew from watching "Miami Vice" that the bad guys were the ones with the drugs, and Crockett and Tubbs dealt out swift and mighty justice to the cocaine smugglers, while remaining blazingly fashionable. Like, every episode seemed to deal with the breaking up of some Colombian or Bolivian drug ring. Didn't Victor remember that? Didn't he know all the words to "Smuggler's Blues"? I sure did.
"Did you do it, too?"
Victor looked up at the ceiling, "Yes."
"Did Nick?"
He nodded.
"Have you done it before?"
Victor was getting irritated. "Iseult, it's no big deal, okay? Would you just relax? I only did a little bit." He kept pinching his nose and wincing.
Jane's Addiction, "Ocean Size," from the album, Nothing's Shocking
Released August 1988
posted by Iseult at 11:35 AM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home