Religious Revelation
This was the now defunct Zodiac in Oxford.

We were all going out for someone's birthday, so we'd assembled around a friend's house and brought some booze to get a cheap 'head start'.

Me and my friend Dai had brought 8 cans of Scrumpy Jack, a bottle of some sort of White-Lightening knock-off, and a bottle of vodka. Not all just intended for us but we knew other tightwads wouldn't bring enough (we were students) so fuck it - we had stuff lying about the house anyway so let's make sure we don't run out of booze.

Our friends who lived in the house provided the massive bag of weed. And it turned out people had brought booze this time as well, so we drank our cider, drank our tramp-fuel, went out in the garden for a smoke and shared out the vodka with the others, then headed off for the club. Things were a bit odd by this stage after a long summer afternoon getting pissed and stoned in the sun, but I felt good, and positive, so OK, let's go to the club.

We got in and pretty quickly the group's split up and people are off on their own. I decided to find Dai and see how he was doing, since I was a bit out of it and assumed he must be.

He was on the Dancefloor, dancing like a middle-aged man, with his eyes closed and tears pouring down his face.

OK.

'Dai ... Dai! You alright mate?'
'Go away'

OK. I went off, got a pint, and kept and eye on him on the dancefloor to make sure he didn't do himself any harm.

After a while of this, with a gulf clearning around him as scared people moved further away, and his dance not varying with the music, his face permanently turned to the sky and streaming with tears, he moved off to the side of the room and I went over.

'Dai - you alright?'
'Yeah'
'What happened?'
'God'
'Eh?'

He didn't say a word for the rest of the night, even when we got back to our house and he vomited up the walls in his room. We thought he'd be fine, and once he sobered up things would be cool.

Next afternoon, he emerged.

'Hey mate - you OK now?'
'Yeah'
'So what was that about yesterday?'
'God'

We laughed it off - drunken bollocks.

'No - I saw God. He chose to touch me. I saw him. This is real.'
'Erm... OK'

This lasted for three days. Now, seven years later, he accepts that it was more likely the drink and drugs than God, but still has an awed attitude to the power of the Almighty.

Who knew tramp-fuel could be that good? Maybe they're all just Holy Men....
(SnowyTheWereRabbit the Leporid from Hell, Thu 9 Apr 2009, 15:09, Reply)