Stray cats

Yesterday, I had an interesting interaction with a man by my work. I walk down an alleyway to get to my job every morning. The alley is frequented by addicts of all types.

A year or so ago, I had to perform an exorcism there. A heroin dealer was meeting his clientele there every morning at 8:00am. At first, I was offended. I never found a dealer to be consistent let alone on time. Then, I was irritated that my old clients from the methadone clinic started trickling in to meet this guy. Finally, I was pissed that the guy wore eye glasses. What kind of a heroin dealer wears freaking eye glasses? This man had to go. I told his clients to kindly insure four eyes that if he did not shake this spot, I would call the authorities. Absolutely no respect for the sanctity of the detox.

Anyway, my new boyfriend from yesterday was FULL. This is a term used in the gay speed world that indicates a person is out of their mind on meth. My new friend had his things sprawled all over the sidewalk. Though he was not blocking the door, I came out because he was making the non recovery people afraid with his tweak able and general mayhem.

My new lover was tall. He had a awful neck tattoo and blood shot eyes. He had on two pairs of ripped pants, red ones under ripped black pants on top. He had various tattered garments placed around his body to create a shirt of sorts. The situation was almost comical except this was his life. This had been me. I spent many afternoons sunburnt and disgusted outside sorting through trash for treasures.

As he packed up his belongings he had retrieved from various dumpsters, he catalogued them to me: a nightgown, large panties, shoes with holes in the soles, plastic wrap, the usual. I got him a Gatorade and a banana to help move him along. He was asking me if I found him attractive as he tried to explain he was not interested in recovery. He would just get his stuff, pack in in his cooler, and try to move it along to a new spot. His conversation became more and more sexually provocative as I focused more on giving him an idea of what detox is and how to get in. We both had something to offer.

Eventually, my coworkers and I got my love packed up. The funny thing was he only made it a half a block away. I got two lunches yesterday. One for myself and one for him. This man had been up for days. He reminded me so much of myself- are you tired of this? He started eating the soup. He does not know anything else. I had forgot until that moment that if you have never been clean, you can get to a point where you no longer can picture it. He asked me if I was married. 16 years or so ago, this man and I could have been together in this alley. Not today sweetie. There will be no picnic for us today. I hope he enjoyed his cookie, his soup, and maybe a tiny bit of my story. I also hope he will not be camped out for me Monday.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Black Tar Heroin 10 questions answered

Jamie

Another chapter in dopesick love