It Could Be Worse: A Heroin Story

    As I've already said before in my most recent post, I have a been sick. Then, shortly after my near death (Exaggeration) sickness, I spend 10 hours sweeping. Think about that for a moment. I spent 6 hours sweeping without stopping, then lunch, than 3 and a half more hours consisting of more sweeping. It's sounds easy, but upload a video of you doing it, and then smile for the camera as you cross that "oh-so-easy" finish line.

    Anyway, I'm getting paid for that. So that's something. The basement is no longer flooded, but in it's final moments, the flood made sure to leave it's legacy behind. The carpet reeks of freshly slain feces. I think the lingering smell of waste and death give the room some character. I'm tempted to name the stench. (SN: I forgot it was Saturday.) I'll name it Terry.

    Also, first comment, awesome personal achievement! (Thank You, Quincy)

    Since we're all caught up, I'll type up the story of a lifetime. The same weekend we almost got shanked and left for dead HERE, I had a run-in with some pretty interesting dudes. Caution, I feel as though I might not look so brave in the moments I am going to describe to you, but damn it, I tried.

    It was a peaceful drunken Saturday at my Uncle's motel room (In his defense, it's a roomy motel, almost hotel-ly). I had cigarettes, but no lighter. In my drunken state, I was hitting on the women at the front desk. She wasn't attractive in the traditional sense, but my beer goggles would argue that it was "good enough". After my failed attempt to woo the older woman, police entered the lobby and I quickly walked away.

    I bumped into some regular looking guys, one of them was very short and friendly, the other was tall, quiet and apparently as drunk as I was. I asked them for a lighter and they emptied out their pockets. No dice. They invited me up to their room where they assured me they had a lighter. I followed them across the entire motel and they led me into the room. It was a regular room, just like my Uncle's and they had the tv going.

    I was handed a lighter and I cracked open the window. I thanked them and got to know them. They told me they had a friend in the shower, who was also living with them. The shorter guy, Alec, started talking to me about his situation (He lives in a motel, of course there's an explanation). He told me his girlfriend got pregnant with someone else's baby, that his mother sent him to rehab for smoking pot, he talked about moving to harder drugs and eventually being admitted into a hospital.

    I want you to understand that the guy I was speaking to didn't look a day over 20. He looked young, youthful and full of energy. He was funny and down to earth. So naturally, I think he's full of shit. I don't believe a word he says. I laughed it off and they offered me some of their cheap plastic fifth of whiskey. Of course, I take a few shots. I was completely fine, until I noticed the tall guy, J-something, start spacing out while watching Superbad. I started feeling a little uncomfortable.

    That's when it happens, the bathroom door opened and this tall, strung out, eminem looking dude walked out half naked. He threw a shirt on and introduced himself. I don't remember his name, I just remember feeling fear. This is it, they spilled all their secrets, they're not gonna let me leave. I'm dead. I composed myself the best I could and continued talking to them. All the while, Alec kept talking about how he got clean and his plans for the future and Eminem started looking at the ceiling and stretching like he was ready for liftoff. I managed to ask, "Are you cool, man?"

    "Heroin, man. Heroin."

    Pardon my french, but I damn near shit myself. Between his soul-cleansing shower and meeting me, this guy shot himself up with heroin. Not very many normal people can say that everyday. So, Alec is talking about 'bitches, and how they suck', Spacehead is intrigued by Superbad and Captain Heroin is getting ready to enter Tron. Things are not looking good for me. All I need is a way out. There was a knock at the door and I was completely swallowed by darkness.

    It was pitch black, the junkies had shut off the lights in panic (You thought it was something more epic, didn't you?). All I could hear were these idiots talking about how the police were in the lobby and fighting over who needs to answer the door. At that point in time, I'm either going to jail for associating myself with these junkies or dying. Of course, they managed to get Captain Heroin to answer the door, great logic. I could hear him talking, but I couldn't hear who he was talking to. I heard him say, "Who? No, he's not here," and damn near ran to the door.

    The lady at the front desk was kind enough to let my uncle know some junkies lead me away and were ready to rape me (Not really). But alas, I was rescued. I went back to my uncles room and had myself some beer before passing out. Good times.

Scariest moment of your life? Do tell.

~JoeGenoCyDe