I was reading the Gay YOUniverse, and his own run-ins with possible crack pipes when I was reminded of my own. I’ve had two run-ins with the Crack pipe. Well, not me personally. I don’t believe in crack. I saw Whitney on Diane Sawyer. And Amy Winehouse. Plus, weed burns my throat and I just couldn’t imagine how much crack would burn. And, they use the name ‘crack.’ Someone in the PR department needs to find a different name. Tina just sounds like a stripper who looks sticky, with thigh high pleather boots, neon fishnets, and a leather miniskirt with a muffin top sticking out. I digress.
After I went on a 36 hour road trip/running away/’missing person’s report filed’ in May of 2006 – wait. Scratch that. I now remember crack was part of the reason I ran away. Before I went on my 36 hour road trip, in the vein of really bad decisions, I decided to have some fun in Atlanta. Well, relieve some depression and get out of the dorms. Sex has and always will be my drug of choice. Then again, when you starve yourself, the body releases endorphins other crazy drugs already stored inside. Again, I digress. I decided to have some fun, and ended up meeting someone online. We can call him Seneschal.
It was a Sunday morning. There was nothing better to do, and I’m fairly certain it was a new moon. We went about it for awhile, then Seneschal sent me upstairs to use this hose like contraption that I’d always wanted but need a home of my own so my mother doesn’t come across yet another bit of gay paraphernalia. She’s discovered my heels, the receipt for porn, and more shockingly, the receipt for dildos and condoms. Mind you this was all hidden very well, some of it stored with my spare tire in my car. I’m convinced mothers have x-ray vision and superpowers of detection.
I come back downstairs with a clean body, inside and out, and lo and behold Seneschal is lighting up. A crack pipe. I’ve been in many “what the fuck” situations, but seeing someone I’d just been very intimate with lighting up and no forewarning was very disconcerting. He asked if I wanted a hit, and I respectfully declined but asked where I could smoke a cigarette. He also told me that the elderly were being hit especially hard by the Crack epidemic. I immediately thought of cracked out fairies screaming for some broad named Tina.
UWG wishes he bought from Mike Sweetman
The second brush with the crack pipe, now that I think about it, was almost two years later this past spring. In a bizarre twist of fate, turning out to be someone I hooked up with right after I graduated from high school in a very ‘colorful’ motel of I-85. The period after high school was a resurgence of animalistic passions I seem to befall every spring. Anyways, let’s call him UnderWear Guy. He had a fetish for underwear, which seems normal enough. UWG was typically corporate. Works a 9-5 job for some insurance company or something. If I met him under different circumstances, I would have thought he had 2.5 kids and a wife named MaryAnn who wore pearl necklaces.
I saw UWG for a couple of weeks, until the very last visit where he apparently was so stressed out, he absolutely needed to pull out The Crack Pipe. His stressors were a big presentation at work and a deal that could’ve possibly fallen through. Plus a friend who smokes enough crack to forget where he parked his car the week before, and was coming to look for it and demanded his help.
UnderWear Guy was decent enough when we had time together; big footballer type guy who put on a hard demeanor but was a big softie underneath. Ultra materialistic, but what member of The Gays isn’t. Save for hints at his terrible temper. All of that I can ignore. I’m a big boy; I carry a small knife in my bag most places I go and especially when I meet strangers or new people. And I’m pretty skilled in the art of sedation with cords and pills. But The Crack Pipe? Do you know what people do not only for a klondike bar but The Crack Pipe?
There are just some addictions for which I cannot stand. Well, really just crack, cocaine and heroin. Cocaine’s slightly understandable. Barbituates and opiates, oddly enough, are alright in my book. They depress the system, and while the world may not make sense a drunk is only going to move so far before passing out. Stimulants, however, are an entirely different story, craft a reality that seems too real, and presents the danger of energizing the suspect to unbelievable levels. Seeing this trait of a possible Chernobyl-type temper and his affinity for Crack, I quickly deduced that were this to continue and the two situations to combine I could be in a very delicate predicament. I love flirting with danger and laughing at death (sometime with him) but when I collected the $20 for gas I didn’t look back. The $20 also bought me some chicken tenders and a pack of cigarettes. I guess cigarettes and sex are my two drugs of choice.
Signed,
Patrique
Kevin
6 May, 2011
Had to say this, you said “There are just some addictions for which I cannot stand. Well, really just crack, cocaine and heroin. Cocaine’s slightly understandable. Barbituates and opiates, oddly enough, are alright in my book.” First error heroin is an opiate. Second, all crack is is 75 percent cocaine and 25 percent baking soda.(for the good stuff) This being said all crack really is is cocaine in smokable form, or in other words another way to use it. Finaly barbituates are barely abused anymore. Im sure you are talking about benzodiazepines. Everything you had to say was interesting, but if you plan on doing something like this again please read up on your drugs.