The getting a finger-full of Molly part was no problem for him. But even though I refused to look back at him, I could tell he was having serious difficulties when it came to getting the powder from his finger to past my o-ring- it kept rubbing off too soon and falling to the floor like copacetic snow. After about 6 attempts he conceded that I probably had enough in me to trip the light fantastic, and I think we were both relieved to leave that bathroom. I felt like I’d just gotten a sketchy enema, I can’t imagine what was going through his head.