Morning After: The Night I Robo-tripped

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I was one of the good kids in high school. I didn’t drink. I didn’t do drugs. And my close friends were the same way. During my senior year, my best friend’s parents went out of town and left her in charge of the house. Naturally, she decided to have a party. In our minds, that meant inviting some boys over and hanging out. Not your typical “my parents are out of town” rager, to say the least.

So at 8pm that night, I told my parents I was sleeping at her house and headed over. When I got there, the other 6 or so people had already arrived, including our friend Jordan who was home from his freshman year of college for the weekend. And with him, a “cool new thing” he tried the weekend before.

“Dude, you just mix Robitussin and orange juice and it’s the coolest thing ever. And it’s not like drugs so it’s legal and you won’t get in trouble. But it’s really fun. I did it and was just, like, so happy for, like, 4 hours. Then it goes out of your system.”

He made it sound so fun, so easy, so consequence-free. Plus, being that I’d be heading off to college myself the following year, I thought I should try it. Explore my horizons a bit. So Jordan mixed the concoction for 4 of us (the other 2 were lame…or as I later found out, the smart ones) and we drank up.

At first, everything was fun. Especially riding down the stairs on my butt. So fun, in fact, that I did it over and over and over again for 3 hours. I also enjoyed spinning in circles, touching the walls, and staring at the carpet. Before I knew it, 6 hours had passed. Turns out, that whole “only lasts 4 hours” thing only pertained to Jordan, a boy who had a good 50 pounds on me.

I was still feeling light, free, like was inside a video game, when 2 a.m. rolled around. I threw myself onto the ground for a little “resty time” when I heard what sounded like a sprinkler going off. I shot up and followed the sound to the kitchen. That’s where I found the my friend Mark, covered in his own puke. Confused and slow to register anything due to the obscene amounts of cold meds in my system, I looked around the kitchen. There was throw up on the walls, on the floor and on the ceiling. Turns out, Mark was also enjoying a little circle spin when his body decided otherwise. He kept spinning and the puke kept spewing.

I started laughing uncontrollably.

“OH MY GOD!” My sober friend screamed. “MY PARENTS ARE GOING TO KILL ME.”

I couldn’t help it; I continued laughing.

The next thing I remember, my friend was on her way to Walmart for supplies “to mop the ceiling” and I was on the floor of the bathroom, eyes completely dilated, having completely missed the toilet as I attempted to pee. Getting a little nervous (“am I gonna be like this forever?!?”), I got a blanket and attempted to sleep off whatever was going on in my body. Unfortunately, as soon as I closed my eyes, I began having nightmares that a gospel singer (yes, a gospel singer) was trying to kill me.

I guess I eventually passed out because the next thing I remember was light pouring in the living room windows. I ran to the bathroom to check my eyes and make sure I wasn’t totally messed up anymore. Thankfully, the nightmare was over, the puke was cleaned from the kitchen and all was back to normal.

That is until I came down with a nasty cold the following day and my mom brought me a bottle of Robitussin to help with the symptoms….

Never. again.

[You think that’s bad? Check out our other cringe-worthy Morning After stories.]

Dear Mom: Read This Before You Poke Me
Dear Mom: Read This Before You Poke Me
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