The Morning After

A ringing phone wakes me, I open my eyes and they slowly take focus.  I look over at the phone and it’s a friend checking up on me.  It stops ringing.  I put the phone back down and the table is covered in a combination of empty Trojan Magnum wrappers, Dos Equis bottles, some weed and an empty cigarette pack.  In the air there is a smell of perfume, purple haze, sex and maybe a little bit of madness.  I get up off of the couch in the back of studio and hit the space bar on the keyboard.  My ears are greeted with a warm, rich sounding bass in a mix I had been working on the night before.  I throw a couple files onto my iPhone, grab a pair of headphones and head into the studio lounge.  I find a heavily tattooed red headed woman sitting on the couch.  She gets up, hands me a perfectly rolled joint, takes my phone and saves her number.  She opens the door, looks me in the eyes and asks me to call her.  I reply with a kiss and close the door.  I plug my headphones in and scroll to a song I was working on.  I light up the joint. The iPhone starts to play the song and I start to inhale.  A thought strikes my mind at that point…”It was all worth it!”