When I was a sophmore at the preppy all girls school that I went to, before I got kicked out, I decided to take my friend Mike from the preppy all boys prep school to meet my drug dealer. Mike looked straight, when we would go to cop together the dealers would just laugh in his face, so I would always have to do the talking. He would drive the moped, be in charge of transportation and I would be in charge of deals. And on the way there and back we had a deal, we would not stop. Not for red lights, not for stop signs.
We would close our eyes, hang tight and scream.
Vintage clothes and heroin. those were my favorite things in highschool,,,, and drinking. My dealer had a clothing vintage clothing store and his house was full of paper umbrellas, laterns and all kinds of nicknacks from the 30â€™s and 40â€™s. Odd toys. Sometimes I would stop by and the door would be open, I would come in, music would be playing there would be a syringe or two laying about and no one would be home, or Iâ€™d find my dealer sort of not breathing too much and shake him awake. One time he got there after me and was covered with blood. The guy standing next to him had been shot by someone in a car. I brought Mike there one night and we got high. Mike wouldnâ€™t touch anything, when he started getting sick, which he always did, I took him to the upstairs bathroom, which had a doorway outside, with no actual door to close and no actual place to walk, just a drop 2 floors down to a freeway and it had an electric heater cause it was always freezing in there. Mike heaved and heaved and finally we went out side, and he was clearly disgusted by the whole experience. He was going on and on about how filthy it was and finally
reached the high point of his complaints with â€œand he diidnâ€™t even have any HAND TOWELSâ€ which has always made me laugh because it was the least of the problems around there. At one point I know he went to the house next door and stole all the kitchen cabinets and used them for firewood.
It was really cold back then.