Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test
By Kate Blood
4 Jun 2008
Hi. My name is Kate, and I'm a neon addict. It's been two days since I've taken a shot of Atomic Number Ten, and I'm feeling shaky and sick to my stomach.
Neon at night is so vibrant and exciting that I've been known to stare compulsively at the hot, saturated colors of a giant green martini olive. I look at just one, and before I know it, I've spent hours on the stuff.
The first time I recognized I had a serious neon problem was in Amarillo, Texas where I found myself rushing from cowboy cocktail bar to drive-up liquor store. All along Route 66 I aimed for nothing but cheap thrills, paying little regard to composition, spitting exhausted AA batteries from the barrel of my digital Canon as if they were spent bullet casings.
It wasn't long before I hit rock bottom. Vying with a hooker for street corner space in the warehouse district of Fresno, I did shot after shot of a colorless, odorless, gaseous element.
Last week was a turning point and I actually resisted a 3am visit to the corner of 8th and Broadway in downtown LA. I knew the Golden Gopher was out there, flashing its seductive neon ribbons of red and gold. I imagined the riveting "zzzt, zzzt" sound of hot light bulbs flickering on and off in the cool night air, and my cravings were almost too much to bear.
Maybe I can do late night neon runs in moderation. Maybe it's imbibing alone that's the real issue and I should just take a buddy along on my midnight forays down dark urban alleyways. It doesn't seem possible that I can ever completely give up hanging out on street corners at 3am; shooting up under electric, Kool-Aid-colored signs.
1 response
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Mark Nelson gave props (23 Feb 2009):
Fantastic work!!!!
