E is for Experience – A collection of 1st time Ecstasy Experiences
A constantly updating collection of 1st time Ecstasy experiences from our readers.
By Rik Da Hippy
For me, It was 1996, Milton Keynes that became my pivotal moment, my eureka epiphany, the place where I finally put two and two together and realised what this little pill was really for. It was my first rave, it was a Helter Skelter and I was 16 years old. In my pocket I held two grams of base and one of them little round things affectingly known as a dove (oh them were the days). Strictly speaking this wasn’t my first experience with “gary-ablets”, I’d been taking them with a group of friends, just around the local town on Friday nights and I would love to tell you about these experiences but my memories are hazy and somewhat sketchy from back then. In fact the only clear memory I have from my first pill is of me being pulled off a born again Christian who’d been handing out those little God pamphlets, but not in any fighting sense. It was simply because I couldn’t stop hugging him. The look in his eyes is still with me to this day and I still can’t work out if it was Christianly forgiveness or down right fear staring back at me. For me though it was pure MDMA love. I still have that pamphlet.
But back to the club, or more appropriately back in the queue outside the club. To say I was excited would have been an understatement, I remember I kept fingering the little bag in my pocket, trying to speed up the time till I would eat the content. The two grams of base was there for longevity only, it was an all-nighter and I fully intended to be up the front at the stage for all of it, but the dove, the dove was for my pure pleasure. My original plan was to eat a gram of the base and the pill in the queue and then the other gram later in the night should I start flagging, but you see the problem was I got nervous, call it butterfly’s or paranoia, or even the simple witnessing of security doing their searches. You can call it whatever you want, but the fact of the matter was I had taken the lot in the queue. I’d even tried to time it just right so it wouldn’t kick in until I had gotten inside, but as with all best laid plans it failed miserably and I was dribbling mess by the time I was admitted. Straight away I lost my friends (as you do) but instead of worrying I just ploughed head first into the Rollers warehouse and right to the front to dance my little jungle ditty I’d practiced so much in my bedroom.
Unsurprisingly I started to feel a peculiar feeling in my tummy. That’s right folks you guessed it. I needed a toilet and right the fuck now, except what with this being my first time at this venue, I had no idea where any of them were. So I did what anybody else in my situation would have done and stuck with what I knew. And all I knew at that point was where the entrance was, in fairness it was the only other part of the venue I’d been too and I somehow figured that if I could just get outside I’d be ok. So I made a dash in that direction (well as much as a dash as one can make while trying to fight their way out of a sea of sweaty, tangled, dysfunctional body of ravers). I had just managed to emerge from the main body of the dance floor to the outside edges where the clubbers were just mulling about and that was when I realised I wasn’t going to make it.
I write the next line with shame. There I was, in one of the better lit areas of the club, for all the world to see, projectile vomiting over this beautiful, poor young girl dressed in a bikini. There was no question as to whether she noticed, she was looking right at me as it happened, and well, I guess having someone being sick on your face and tits kind of leaves a lasting impression. What did I do? The same thing any sane person would do. I ran and ducked into the crowd never to see the poor girl again. If by some chance you were that poor girl, I can only beg your forgiveness and say I am truly sorry. But on a brighter note after I was sick I did feel better. The rest of the night is a bit of a blur in truth, but after that I had lost my fear, no longer was I just staying by the stage, I was ducking and diving everywhere like some demented mad man, exploring every nook and cranny, for all I know I could have been licking those corners (this is something I have done in the past, and I do NOT recommend it, it’s very un-hygienic). But it was my walking I remember most. Man, I would had made Monty python proud.
By Rik Da Hippy
Do you have a hilarious first time experience like Mr Hippy, email it in and we’ll publish it. email@example.com