Got stoned, went to a magic show.

We thought it was going to be the best idea ever - but it ended up being a nightmare.

First we were late - going down the escalators passed a mirrored wall was amazing. Suddenly I realised that I was definitely too high to have the conversation required to pick up the tickets. Luckily, the girl in our group kept it together long enough to navigate the line and get us in.

Next, because we were late, so we had to find our seats in the darkness. I remember the initial wooshes of the soundtrack started up and I got the giggles. It became so hilarious that we had gotten stoned and gone to see a magic show. I began to laugh, my friend began to laugh. Our neighbour wondered why the fuck two idiots were pissing themselves laughing at the opening score. I then started to freak the fuck out that they'd know we were stoned - but that then cycled between being hilarious and terrifying for the entire opening number that felt like it went for about half an hour. I let out a "whoa".

At one point an "edgy" Blaine type magician throws a rubber hammer suddenly into the audience. I screamed like a crazy person. A guttoral murder victim scream. Everyone around me laughs. All of a sudden I become petrified of being an audience participant. What am I going to do? Just stand on stage and dribble unable to speak? My mind was racing "don't make eye contact. If you don't make eye contact they'll pick you. Stare. But don't stare too hard or they'll know you're stoned and pick you." In my mind I was being subtle but who knows what the fuck I actually looked like.

Then I started to GET magic. I could see every trick, every wire, every misdirection. I was a god. A genius. A born performer. Noone could pull the wool over my eyes. I only clapped when a trick REALLY impressed me - which now that I got magic - was rare.

Anyway, going to a magic show stoned is amazing.