#heroinstories

Ahhh it used to be so romantic...  People would call my cell phone, begging me to score them some heroin.  I had the best connections in town within our group, so I was the go-to-girl.  Just imagine -- 12 people, all meeting up at a subway station.  Me, short black tulle skirt, tank top, knee high socks, steel-toe boots, some colour of hair.  And then some vampiric looking guy, all in black, super cheesy rock-star of the 2008 era-hair.  A couple of crack-head looking people.  Maybe another punk or two.  A normal looking guy.  A native guy with his Indian girlfriend.  All walking down the street, 12 of us sometimes.  Then I would have to walk into the guys apartment, into his actual flat.  He was a crazy tiny Vietnamese guy (the one at this point), who enjoyed crack. It was a bit creepy being in his place. He would offer me to smoke some heroin, but that’s bad for the lungs! Needles are what doctors use, and therefore GOD intended.  So, I’d pull out my wad of cash, and be so happy because I had over-charged 11 people for their score -- which they were happy to pay, so then I would be rich in heroin for the day.   Exit the shitty apartment building, and head over to the alley where everyone was waiting, anxiously smoking their cigarettes and trying miserably to look inconspicuous.   Then, I would dole out the dope. Most people would leave, but me and my ‘man’ and a friend or so would usually stay.  If it was summer, we’d just walk into the bushes (there was a giant park there surrounded by bushes), and we’d walk down a path and shoot up right there.  Often, my stomach would be too “dope-sick” (I no longer did cocaine at this point, but cocaine has this terrible effect on making your bowels REALLY lose before you score, and it takes a year or 4 to go away, even if you are not scoring coke anymore), so I’d often have to shit in the bushes.  Then we would shoot up in the bushes (away from the shit), next to the school/daycare/baseball park.  OR, if it was cold, we would walk back up the street and stop at the Public Library -- often the bathroom would be held hostage by various homeless people, so our presence was not so bothersome.  The librarians MUST have noticed how we all went there virtually every day, for a very short amount of time.  But, in that country, people have compassion, and don’t try to get rid of undesirables from places that are meant for every member of the public.  Ahhh, the highs I obtained there.... Later on, our location had to change to a hospital.  That’s another story...  Overdosing in a hospital bathroom, stealing a wheelchair to get me out (rather than admit me), and filming it.... For some eyes only...