talking about tigers
I remember Tare Grogan very well. He was one of the few people I met at boarding school who I connected with on a creative level.He introduced me to drugs.
We both had bowlish haircuts, every single hair as long as it could be without being out of school regulations. I found Tare in his room. He was looking for a thumbtack.
"What do you want a thumbtack for?"
"For this" he said, holding up a coke can.
"Oh" I said, totally confused.
Outside the silver drops of rain which had landed on leaves and branches were still finding their paths closer to the center of the earth, dripping and dropping, though the shower had stopped.
We went out in the woods, Tare, myself, a coke can, and a thumbtack.
Tare spotted a log beside a pond, and we sat on it. He produced the coke can, and began fussing with it and the thumbtack.
"Just what the fuck are you doing, anwyay?" I asked.
"You'll see."
He finished with the can. He had poked a bunch of holes in the side, and pressed that part in with his thumb so that it was flat. He pulled what looked like a really nasty booger out of a plastic bag and set it on the can. He handed me a lighter.
"So this would be drugs then?" I asked.
"Uh huh."
"Well all right."
We smoked the green booger until it had sparked and popped itself into nothing, and I was high for the first time. Such a stream of babbling nonsense erupted from me that I weirded even Tare out.
I told him all about how the pisser about being a tiger is that if you get wet, you can't swim very well. Tigers swam very excellently for the few seconds that they were still somewhat dry after being in the water, but once they were soaked they just paddled aimlessly.
He just grinned at me, and we walked out of the woods to go watch some tv.
I talked and talked and talked, and I never thought to myself "What the hell am I saying?".
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