Points

Since last week's post was so graphic and intense, I have decided to be "lighter" this week. What follows is just something that happened..one night..like any other night. Actually come to think of it there may be a little graphic undertone.....

I used to see this guy, his name was Francois. He was a heavy (more round than heavy), short, harmless French man. He used to pick me up and give me half of my money up front so I could score and then give me the other half after, when he drove me back after the date.

He always picked me up for the same thing. After he was done work he would swing by and get me every month or so. The "same thing" that he wanted was,...sigh...was for me to put a latex glove on my hand an insert it into one of his orifices. Guess which one? Anyways, that isn't really what this post is about, as I mentioned I don't feel like getting heavy.

One night Francois picked me up, gave me $$ to score (which I did) and then we went back to his apartment like always. BUT this time we made a stop on the way to his place. I cannot remember what he was doing and why but I just remember that the crack I had purchased burning a hole in my pocket and I told him that while he was doing whatever it was that he was doing, I would go find some public washroom somewhere to do some dope.

We were parked on West 4th right by a restaurant. I went in there and asked them if I could use their washroom. They agreed. I go into the washroom and took out a make up container..like eye shadow or something (it had the dope inside)...another one of my ingenious hiding places. I smoked some dope and then re-braided my hair or combed it in the mirror. In this process I completely forgot about the eye shadow container that I had placed on the toilet paper dispenser. I finished in the washroom, went back to Francois and we continued on to his house, which was not far. A few blocks.

The drill was basically the same every time. We would arrive at his house, he would shower while I would sit in the living room and do dope. He would get out and go into his room. He would lie on the bed face down and wait for me. Wait until I WAS READY. See I always had to do a lot of dope before I stuck my hand inside someone. It may not have been the whole hand but my job was to do one finger at a time..working up to, but never was, the whole hand. I know it sounds gross, weird, or maybe it doesn't but it wasn't weird. I was wearing a glove, he didn't have to penetrate me..so I was fine with it. You have to understand that when I am doing these sorts of things my mind is everywhere else and not in the room/car, etc. with me and the date. I am thinking of dope most likely...and anything else. He told me that his ex-wife got him into the whole "rear entry" thing. Yeah, sure Francois.

I keep getting distracted. I didn't even mean to include that part because this particular evening (the evening I was talking about in the beginning of the post) we didn't even GET to the hand insertion.

He did get in the shower and I did sit down to smoke a bowl but then chaos ensued.It's what I considered a catastrophe. I couldn't find my dope. If you have ever been around dope addict that can't find their dope, it is not a pretty sight. Everything pales in comparison. I mean, the house could be burning down and they aren't leaving until they find it. As I mentioned before though, I had left it in the washroom at the restaurant. Francois had already given me half of the money for the date but he knew me well enough to know that he was going to get nothing good out of me while I was in this frenzy. Obviously I HAD to go back to find it, there was no way I was going to wait until after the date. He gave me bus fare to get back downtown and I told him I would get him back for the cash he had already floated me.

I had forgotten dope in lots places before and usually had good luck with finding it. I had left some on the floor in a 7-11 washroom early one Sunday morning HE (the date) was not one that was "cool" with me doing dope around him so I casually asked him to stop so I could use the 7-11 bathroom-and got high in there). On the way back from the date I got "him" (whoever it was) to drive me by there on the way back so I could go in and get it. It was there, where I left it, on the floor. Crack is white, floor was white. So it wasn't very obvious to an average person, plus I doubt any one even used the washroom since I had. But this time, the time with Francois, I had not only left it in a washroom but had left it very visible on the toilet paper dispenser and it was a very busy restaurant. The chances of it being seen was %100. Not that anyone would pick up someone else's makeup, I mean that is uber unsanitary. But, though the reason escapes me right now, I seem to remember that the dope must have been obvious IN the container for some reason. I was extra concerned, as well I should have been.

I get to the restaurant, bee-lining for the washroom. The place was emptying out. I go in..and no eyeshadow container, which means no crack. F*CK. As a dope addict you will do anything to get the dope back. It is that serious. I went up to a staff member that worked there and asked them about my makeup and where was it..could she ask her servers and all that if they had seen it. This is where it gets stupid..I actually told them that I had HEART PILLS in the container and that was why it was soooo important that I find them. Like who would believe that? Anyways, it turned out that one guy that worked there HAD seen it and had thrown it out. Once he knew it was mine he just happened to be able to locate my missing makeup in the garbage. Good thing because I would have seriously turned the place upside down. Garbage or not (I guess that digging through garbage is nothing compared to s*cking off random strangers in all sorts of dangerous locations). I KNEW just by looking at him that something was up. He gives it to me and of course, it is empty..besides the eyeshadow. Now, HE knows that I know that there was dope in there. He can't rat me out to the people he works with because he would have to explain where the crack was because why would he not have just thrown it out all together, why remove the "pills" (dope)? Does that make sense? I hope it does, I am moving on.

He never coughed them up, he had no reason to, but he DID have to act like he was all sympathetic and all that. Did they know I was bullsh*tting? I have no idea, probably. What I do know is that as an addict you have to be one hell of a hustler to get your needs met. I ended up convincing a different guy that worked there to drive me back downtown and then to give me ten bucks. It is the last part that I find so awesome. I still managed to turn it into a win.

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PS: I thought I would add in another something that this post made me think of. I used to be a total raver. Like fat pants, bright colors, all of it. No soothers though OR glow sticks, FYI. During this phase of my life I was heavy into the crystal meth. Me and my methy posse used to call it points ( holy sh*t, isn't that the best phrase ever?? Methy posse?? Haha, awesome). You know how a point of something is .1 of a gram? Thus the term, points.

One day me and my friend M had been up for a few days and she had exactly ONE POINT left on her and she had it in her wallet. We were waiting until we absolutely needed it before using it. We were far from home out in Dunbar I think and we were on our way to a friend's and had stopped at the local Safeway. I have no idea what was bought. Maybe water.

We got to said friend's house and after a time we go in the washroom to do our secret points (even though there was only 1 point, it was still referred to as points). They were a secret because we were surrounded by a house full of hurtin' jonesers so we had to be sneaky. The points were not in her wallet where they should have been. We searched everywhere and realized we had to burn back to Safeway. It was tough going back there, I mean I felt paper thin at this point in my Binge??..I had zero energy left.

We looked up and down the aisle we had been in, around the cashier's desk, I am sure we must have looked harsh. Cheeks sunken in, bags under our eyes..super fat pants...we actually asked the cashier to find out if anyone had swept that isle. She asked us why and we told her that my friend had had a small piece of paper with a VERY important phone number on it and we had to find it..had to. We laugh about it now, like as if. A small piece of paper? We couldn't tell them it was a bag of dope and we had to tell them something, so it was piece of paper.

We then turned our search to the parking lot when "it" wasn't found inside. I am sure we looked even worse outside. We were looking very slowly everywhere we had walked, total backtracking. I ended up spotting it right by the curb, by the main doors. It must have fallen out of her wallet when she put her money back in.

The moral of the story is what? I don't know. But both stories had happy endings.