"It looked like a fucking shiitake mushroom, I swear " he tells me as he passes me the pipe.
I hate smoking crack. HATE it. If you have $17 and you are dope sick, doesn't it seem logical to wait until you have $8 to get some dope? Of course it does. But this mother fucker is not logically. He just spent the last of his money on a twenty shot he got a discount. In thirty minutes when this crack is gone, he is going to be TWICE as sick rolling around the floor tasting every little bit of pigeon shit that made it of the ledge on to the carpet.
I chose to abstain from his madness. I wave his offer off. If he had some meth, that is one thing but crack, no. Not unless I have some landing gear or at least a 40 oz to calm me down.
I am puzzled "What do you mean it looked like a shiitake mushroom?"
He pauses for a minute to take a drink of Kern's strawberry drink. That beverage must taste like sugar and sand in that dehydrated mouth. He must have inside a combination of biting his lip and sucking dick with that cracked tooth near the front. Ouch.
"Okay bitch, listen," he tells me as he takes another sip. "The trick tells me he is going to pay me $40 and take me to the hot tubs for a blow job. I tell him fuck the hot tubs, give me $80 and I will take you to my room."
Oh God, I think to myself, what just happened on this couch. I try to block it from my mind.
"Anyway, bring him over here. He wants to kiss me and shit but I said Oh NO honey. Don't get it twisted. That is extra baby. He seemed all nervous so I put on some porn. Then he had the NERVE to ask me to turn it off. Said he couldn't concentrate..."
That man must have been extremely brave or extremely horny to come to this shit hole. My friend was letting me stay with him for a few days until he got his SSI check as long as I "help out around the house". "Help out around the house" meant kicking in drugs or money or both. I was willing to do both. He didn't have much of a habit and I was tired of the streets. He would even give me an extra set of keys. I wasn't know to steal anything. The main person I was hurting was myself. I had a good reputation in that sense.
"So listen," he continues "when I go to take down his pants there it was". He points to his crotch for effect. "A fucking shittake mushroom. It was a big fat head and just a tiny little stalk. I could see why he had to pick up a hooker with that thing."
I scratch my chin. Hmm. "You know," I tell him "that doesn't sound like a shiitake mushroom. That is a portobello mushroom"
His face suddenly gets red as he points at me "what the fuck do you think you are- some mushroom expert? I am letting you fucking stay here. I am telling you about some traumatizing shit here. That dick was fucking traumatizing. It smelled like a fucking garden too. You know- fertilizer."
At that moment, we both bust out fucking laughing. I could not stop laughing for ten minutes. I was happy to have someone to talk with. He was happy to have someone in his space. Sadly, when he described the man I knew exactly what he had meant.
I laid back on the sofa waiting for the right moment to tell him I had saved a piece of dope for us from the last batch. Until then, I let him finish off his crack. He probably needed it right now.