Drank too much

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Drank too much.

Narrative

Oh, my God, Tom, it was not pleasant. I was in California, at this Grateful Dead show at some enormous stadium in Oakland ... I remember trying to get up this enormous flight of concrete stairs under glaring stadium lights, and the Grateful Dead are hammering out some song, and all that blackberry brandy that I slugged down on top of beer ain't sitting right ... and the stairs are steep! Steep, Tom! I'm looking up the face of the fucking Matterhorn, it's nearly *vertical* for Christ's sake! The steps are barely visible in a near-vertical wall of concrete! I've got to hold on! I've got to keep climbing, or I will *fall over backward* and go tumbling down the concrete Matterhorn, breaking every bone in my body and probably landing on the Grateful Dead in the middle of some fucking space jam.

And then I was at the next level of the stadium, where the ground was horizontal and flat and safe. And then up, up, up! comes the blackberry brandy.

This was 1984, maybe 1985.

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