Waking Up with C*ck in Mouth

So, if you are following me on Twitter you know what the rest of the world knows: somewhere between now and my last post I seemed to have misplaced my notebook. THE NOTEBOOK. The one that has random ideas, happenings and other tantalizing anecdotes that I use solely for the purpose of amusing you, my internet legion. Now, I have nothing more to rely on then my cell phone, sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night and type a note into it. Or, I will be having a conversation with someone and it will remind me of that time I was ****ing Jimmy behind the Circle K and I may act like I am checking my text messages but I am not. I am making an note. Now you know.

Since it has been a good month (meaning at least a month, not in the sense that it has been a GOOD month - though it hasn't been especially painful) I have decided just to write about my last "note"that I put in my phone. The note merely says "waking up with cock in mouth". So, here we go:

It was a Friday night (seems it is always a Friday, doesn't it?) and I was on Dunlevy, in the side doorway of the Patricia Hotel. I had had a good evening so far that night. I specifically remember having a nice spot o' the crack cocaine in my pocket and at least 5 bucks in the other pocket. No immediate down sickness in sight.

Now, if caught in the right frame of mind and with a nice amount of dope, I could be relied on for being up to pretty much anything. Of course, if I was f*cking desperate I could be up for anything as well but on this night, I wasn't desperate. I remeber this one desperate Sunday morning I accepted an offer to go to Squamish with this intense dude with nothing more than a promise of a healthy amount of cocaine as payment. How will I get back? I asked and he said, "Don't worry about it!". So I didn't. And then ended up by some shady railroad tracks hitchhiking a ride back to Vancouver. I was sick as f*ck and the old man that gave me a ride kept asking me if I needed to go to the hospital. Bless him, he drove me almost the whole way.

ANYWAYS,

So, it was Friday, I was working and this youngish guy came up to myself and another female and initially he just wanted to score some dope (crack). Then somehow between the score and him going home he had asked me to go with him and I had agreed. When I think back I think I may have been short of a couple nights sleep - not realizing how perilously close to unconsciousness I really was.

We went to his house. It wasn't too far from the hood. I mean, it was still in Vancouver anyways. We went to his house and he was just like any other crack smoking guy. He wanted to do dope and to get a bl*wjob. Fine, I did that all the time. BUT, usually me and the "guy" would at least hang out and do our dope. There was some sense of comraderie usually but not with him. I don't know how long I managed to stay awake for but all I can remember is waking up periodically with his c*ck in my mouth. Like, I would come to and he was forcing me to give him oral sex. I mean, how can that even be satisfying? I was so out of it.

The next moring I was sooo dope sick, I knew I hadn't smoked all my dope because I had been asleep but the crack (his and mine) was gone and so was my 5 bucks. What a jerk off.

Anyways, he was pissing and whining that he didn't want to give me a ride back downtown. But since he lived a basement suite I threatened to scream bloody murder so the upstairs folks would hear me and I told him I knew where he lived so he had to driveme downtown or I would come back with my gang of thugs (what thugs?).

He took me as far at the Greyhound Bus station at Main and Terminal. I was crying that I was so sick and couldn't possibly walk the rest of the way and you know what he did? He punched me in the face and told me to get the f*ck out of his truck. Nice.

It is so weird for me to think that this was actually my life. Things like this happen all the time. It's awful and true.

That is basically the end of this story. You want to know what happened next? Well, let's just say that it involved heroin, cocaine, money, prostitution and a needle exchange. Oh and some major bouts of dope sickness in between.

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Right here I would like to mention that my friend from down there, whom I refer to as R has recently informed me that he is using again. I am sorry R, and I love you.

Deaf-speak is the Unword

Horrendous things happen in any area that has an infestation of drug addicts. As a dope addict with a conscience, a lot of the time I witnessed various sorts of heinous activities in action and it wasn't easy to see (most of the time). I mean, these people (addicts) are ruthless, they don't give a sh*t about anyone..almost psychopathic in a sense. Me, being the except to every rule (smiles), felt bad for the victims of these crimes against humanity. Maybe I am a pussy or maybe I just wasn't "there yet" in the sense of what I would do for my dope. Selling my ass was a more appealing method....Or, maybe I was just lucky to be a girl and therefore was able to make $$ easier than other addicts. The girls ALWAYS make more money than guys. Except for the dope addicts that could support their dope addiction by selling. But that was rare, everyone is basically a f*ck up and it always comes to the surface eventually.

It's true though, even the harshest of women can make money. I've seen it. I would be like, "What?? You got paid that much??" Meanwhile they have almost no hair because they pull it out, they pick their faces so bad it looks as if they got stung by an army of bees, they have track marks and scars all over them because they can't use their arms anymore since their veins there are dead, they have no teeth and are about 55 in street years - which is 105 in people years. I think some guys may get all riled up being with a prostitute, so they pick up the "textbook" example of what one is.

But this isn't even what this post is about. Not that it (the post) was going to be about anything in particular.

I witnessed things all the time as I said. I saw people smash car windows when they thought no one was watching. I was watching from a distance of course, not that it mattered because I was one of "THEM" so they weren't threatened by my presence. They'd smash these windows in broad daylight, so desperate that they do it in plain view..but still got away with it. I mean, say someone does see it, what can they do? Do a citizen's arrest? Maybe, but then they may be worried they will get stuck with a needle (never saw that happen, but it was a good threat though). Or they could call it in to 911 and tell them they are looking for a tall guy with a hooded sweatshirt, who looks dirty, making his escape on a bicycle. Which could be anyone.

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SO....

I was sitting on the steps of some building in Chinatown, myself and couple of other people. They were not my "friends", merely acquaintances, and total bullies. I had no dope or anything so they weren't muscling me at the time. That is how it is, when they aren't muscling you or jacking you up they just act like you and them-are just friends, hanging out.

It was late, we were sitting on steps and this old guy with a cane was walking by us on the other side of the street. This guy (we'll call him S) and this girl (we'll call him Tammy - since that was her name) that were with me on the steps came to a quick agreement that they were going to rob him, the old guy. They ran across the street, S grabbed the man in a headlock, the old man drops his cane while Tammy demands that he give the 2 of them his money. It was brutal. The guy was like ninety. It was horrible to watch, it made me feel really sh*tty and since I was sitting there, not doing anything in defense of this guy, I was a party to the crime. I wasn't about to do anything that may have lessened my chance at survival, so sorry, I just sat there and watched. better him than me. Sorry, that was my life. NOT that I have to explain myself to you anyways. You weren't there.

Tammy was screaming at this old guy and he was yelling for help and telling her that he had no money. She started digging in all his pockets and found his wallet. When she found it she smacked him across the face because he only had ten bucks. The other guy, S, released him from the headlock and the guy fell to the ground. Tammy and S just cruised back across the street to the steps, bitching about how dare the guy only have such a small amount of money on him. Like, how dare he make them rob him for ten bucks. They didn't even feel the need to run. They just traumatized this guy for a lousy ten spot. He probably pissed his pants, I would have. It was frightening to watch and how they can just be normal after that is crazy. I guess I would have sex with strange men and be normal afterwards but that was my "job", so I think there is a difference between what I did for $$ and what they did.

Another time on a Sunday morning I saw a guy on roller blades sucker punch a girl on Hastings for $3. Really I did. She was being all loud and may have been drunk and he just belted her. She hit the pavement and then he went in her pockets and took her whole 3 dollars. Understand this too, it isn't as if these people flee after committing these atrocities, they are in no hurry to disappear. What is she going to do? Nothing, she can't do nothing.

People get beat up all the time though, for whatever reason. Selling bunk dope, stealing, owing money, just for being an idiot. I got punched once because I wasn't paying attention and I went right up to a dope dealer and asked him if he was "working" at the same moment that a cop was walking by and as a result the dealer got busted that day. On a daily basis you see certain people you know that suddenly show up with the whites of their eyes gone, replaced by the blood red that is the evidence of a sh*t kicking. It's gross.

On an unrelated topic: (sub titled : SCAM OF THE WEEK)

One of the people with the best scam going was the deaf girl (of course it is unfortunate that she is deaf, OBVIOUSLY). I saw her doing her thing on several occasions. She would do the quintessential deaf voice which made people really uncomfortable (especially the dope dealers, she was a bit of a heat score, her and her noise). There was no reason to it, her deaf-speak, there was no words. She would just wail while doing charades of smoking crack. Like hold an imaginary pipe to her lips and then an imaginary lighter to the end of it. She would do this until the dope sellers or someone gave her tokes. It was awesome. It is one of the rarities in our earthly realm... the mysterious crack addicted deaf girl. How does a deaf girl even get addicted to crack in the first place??