THE POWER OF CHARTREUSE COMPELS YOU.
THE POWER OF CHARTREUSE COMPELS YOU.

The words were sickening, harrowing, a powerful reminder of unknown entities, possibilities that exist in our world.  I shudder, I shake to think of both the pure evil and pure delight that touched my lips and twisted my soul on that fateful night: my birthday.

It all started innocently enough.  On the day of my born year, I remained content.  There was much to be grateful for: a new home to soon move into, that was blessed by fruitful parents, and aside from this new gain, I was also blessed by the wealth of friendship.

Cheerfully, my friends engaged me in an alluring proposal: how about dinner and a night of getting shitty?  I wholeheartedly agreed to exercise my right to fucking party.

Ah, youth.  At the age of twenty-seven, I’m still considered youth, right?  Gosh, I hope so.  For the powers of youth and birthday revelry are the only excuses for what happened next.

Dinner was business as usual, no complaints there (aside from my friends being a um, tad late, but uh, in their defense, there were no white people there to keep them on time).  Bulgogi was grilled, soju was drank.  Yeah, the night started off fine.

It should be known for future reference though, that when your friends suggest the next moves of the night be merrymaking at Tempest to the tune of chartreuse, the decisive response should be a hearty HELL NO.  A loud, resounding and pure FUCK NO.  A NO that could be heard from the depths of the soul.

Oh, how I wish I had known to just say no.  Twenty minutes later and four shots of chartreuse in (what was I fucking thinking?), the world shut down.  She was gone. Faded. Done.

I can’t say for sure what happened next, except that I was carried out by a big strong white man and put into a big strong vehicle. Great way to meet the new guy your girlfriend is dating.

One gingerly placed on a couch, touchingly embarrassing photos were taken, etched into the memories of my friends. When I saw the pictures the next day, all I could think was, wow, all my friends showed up! How cool! Too bad I can’t remember.

No exorcism was needed, but I did learn a lesson.  The next time someone suggests a chartreuse shot, just say no.