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I was downtown and decided to go to a pub for a couple beer. After a while, I left the pub and was walking back to where I had parked my car. I ran into this 25-year-old Asian girl named 'Kisha.' She was quite pretty, with long black hair. I started talking to her. She mentioned how much she loved smoking crack. I said, "I've been clean for fifteen years, but I will buy you some crack if you let me watch you smoke it."
She said, "Sure!"
Woah, did I feel lucky! Watching a pretty young girl smoke crack! What's not to love?
I said, "Do you have a place?"
She said, "Yeah, it's just down the street here."
We bought some crack and headed back to her place. It was a small room with a bed, TV, and lots of clothing. I said, "What do you do all day?"
She said, "I just watch movies and smoke crack."
I said, "Woah, now that's living!"
Kisha pulled out a small bong. BONG?! WOAH! I had heard so much about crack bongs, but never tried. She started smoking the crack with the bong, and I watched and drooled.
We continued like that for a while, talking as she smoked crack out of this bong. Eventually, she said, "What's that stamp on your hand?"
I said, "Oh, it's the stamp from the cover at the pub. I was having some beer at a pub just before I met you."
She said, "Well, I have some vodka if you would like some."
I said, "HELL YEAH!!" I was already sobering-up and was struggling with the anxiety of watching this chick smoke crack and not toking myself. She got a paper cup and filled it right up. It must have been about eight ounces. I took it in about two shots.
Oh, that was better -- anxiety instantly gone!
I watched Kisha smoke some more crack out of her bong.
She said, "Would you like some more vodka?" Of course I did. Another eight ounces in two shots.
I watched her smoke more crack. I felt good. I said, "Kisha, how about you let me have just one little toot out of that bong? I've never tried a crack bong before. One little toot couldn't hurt, right?"
She said, "Sure!" She loaded up the bong and handed it to me with a torch lighter. I hit it, and... Oh, fuck... I was off to the races.
We smoked up all the crack and went out to buy more. We smoked that up too. ... and bought more.
We kept going like that until there was a knock at the door. It was the guy from the front desk. He said I had to leave, because guests were not allowed after 11 pm. I said, "C'mon, buddy -- let me stay. I'll give you a hundred bucks!" He wouldn't bite. I said, "Well, I will pay for my own room, then..." ...but they were all full up.
So there we were, kicked out onto the street.
I said, "Well, that's okay! Let's just keep toking in the back alley."
Kisha said, "I can't. Toking outdoors does nothing for me. The paranoia overrides the high, and I get nothing out of it. It's a waste for me."
There was a cab there right in front of us, so we hopped in. The driver said, "Where to?"
I said, "I dunno, man -- a cheap hotel, I guess."
The driver started looking up hotels on his tablet and making phone calls. Eventually he said, "It's almost midnight. Everywhere is full." To his credit, he didn't ask us for any money for all of the time he spent.
We got out.
I said, "Okay, Kisha. Here's the deal: I know you don't toke outdoors, but let me hit that bong of yours one more time in the alley, then we will split up the crack that is left and you can go back to your room and smoke it. She agreed. That's what we did and then we said Goodbye.
Before she left, she said, "Here: here is a pipe and some chore and a lighter for you. Thanks for all the crack. Bye."
So there I was smoking crack by myself in the alley. I wanted to go home and smoke it, but I was way too drunk to drive. I didn't want to abandon my car down here either. This is Canada's poorest postal code and a very dangerous place to be alone at night (or leave a car). I realized what Kisha had meant: it was creepy as fuck sitting in this alley smoking crack. Paranoia City and I wasn't really getting high anymore -- just warding off the comedown.
The lighter that Kisha had given me hadn't been new, and soon ran out. I found a corner store that was still open and went in and bought a lighter. A deformed granny came in. She looked like a paper clip. Her back came up, and then curved right back down again so that her head was down around her waist. She said to me, "Excuse me sir, would you buy me a muffin?" Well, I am not in the habit of buying muffins for deformed grannies, but in this case I was so drunk and high that I did. She said, "Thank you, sir," and we both walked out of the store and went our separate ways. I was alone again. ...and afraid.
Suddenly, I turned and ran after the deformed granny. I said, "Excuse me, can I ask you a question?"
She said, "Yeah? What is it?"
I said, "I know it's not safe to be alone down here on these streets at this hour, but can you tell me exactly how dangerous it is?"
She goes, "...for you or for me? For me, it's not dangerous at all. Everyone knows me and they know that I don't have anything. You, on the other hand..."
I said, "That's what I was afraid of. You see, I am stuck down here because I drank too much and I have to wait around until morning before I will be sober enough to drive home."
The deformed granny goes, "Well, hell! You can come back to my place if you want. ...just hang out or sleep or whatever until morning."
My first thought was: HELL NO! ...being seen going back to a deformed granny's place with her? Never! I would rather die!
...but then I realized... ...I really could end up dead out here in the alley...
I said, "Are you allowed guests after 11 pm?"
She said, "Yup. I can have whomever I want all night." ...so we went back to the deformed granny's place.
It was a much nicer and bigger place than Kisha's. I was sitting on the deformed granny's couch. I said, "Wanna smoke some crack?"
She said, "HELL YEAH!!"
She pulled out a torch lighter and we started smoking crack.
"Granny, how did you get started smoking crack?"
She goes, "Well, I had three kids, you see. Then the government came and took them all away from me. A neighbor had contacted them and told them that I was an addict. ...but it wasn't true. The only thing I was using was weed. ...but they took my kids. So I said Fuck it. If they think I'm an addict, I will be an addict. I went out and bought me some crack and I never looked back. That was thirty years ago. I never saw my kids again."
We kept smoking crack until it was gone. The deformed granny said that a plug lived in the building, and we went and bought some more. It was good stuff -- better than the stuff that I had gotten on the street. We kept going like that. Around 8 am the money ran out. I was scraping, pushing, and jonesing. The deformed granny was starting to nod off. I said, "Don't you want to go to bed now? Do you have a bed here?" She didn't. There was just the couch. I said, "Why don't you lie down on the couch, Granny?"
She was like, "No, I'm okay, I'm okay..." ...but then she started to slowly slump forward and was basically just sleeping in her own lap about to fall over onto the floor. I picked her up and layed her down on the couch. I was surprised at how light she was.
I really couldn't believe that she didn't have a bed. I searched around and found a blanket and covered her with it.
Now: on to the task at hand. Surely I could scrape or push a little more out of this pipe? I scraped and pushed all I could. Yes, this would be the last hit of the day. Naturally, my thoughts turned to Carpet Surfing. I really hate doing that. ...but the deformed granny was sound asleep... No one would see... My eyes were slowly drawn down to the floor...
...and what did I see there? A pink baggie with a huge rock in it! WTF??
Am I seeing things? It looked to be about a gram! It must be the deformed granny's. Was the deformed granny holding out on me?
I opened the baggie and took out the huge rock. Well, this isn't mine, but the deformed granny has been smoking my crack all night. Surely I can take just a crumb off of this to supplement the last hit of what I had in the pipe?
I broke off a crumb, put it in the pipe, and hit it.
The next thing I knew, I was on the floor surrounded by paramedics shoving a tube down my throat. There were six of them. They said, "Woah! Woah! His eyes are opening! Hey, buddy, are you okay?"
I pulled the tube out of my throat and said, "Yeah. What happened?"
They said, "You overdosed, buddy. You are lucky to be alive. We thought you were gone. We are only supposed to administer naloxone one time or two times max, but we had to hit you FOUR TIMES in order to get you back! Are you sure you are okay?"
I said, "Yeah, I'm okay."
They said, "Normally, we take someone to the hospital in cases like this. Do you want to go to the hospital?"
I said, "Hell no, I don't want to go to the hospital."
They said, "Alright, then. We can't force you to go to the hospital. Just please please please be careful!" ...and then they left.
I was alone. The deformed granny was nowhere to be found. I just sat there struggling to breathe. My ears were roaring like a freight train and my hands and feet were cramped closed in spasms. My vision was... well, it's difficult to describe, but my eyes were rolling up-and-down so I couldn't see.
Eventually the deformed granny came back. I said, "Where did you go?"
She said, "OMG you are alive! Fuck, you are lucky that I woke up when I did! I woke up and you weren't breathing. Your skin was ash gray and your lips and fingernails were blue! I thought you were dead. I called 911 and when the paramedics came and started working on you, I ran away because I thought I was going to throw up. I really thought you were dead."
I said, "Why?? Why did this happen??"
The deformed granny picked up the pink baggie with the huge rock in it off of the table. She said, "Did you smoke anything out of this pink baggie?"
I said, "Yeah?"
She said, "Oh, fuck, buddy... YOU SMOKED MY FENTANYL!!!"
TL;DR: Always test your drugs and never use alone.
She said, "Sure!"
Woah, did I feel lucky! Watching a pretty young girl smoke crack! What's not to love?
I said, "Do you have a place?"
She said, "Yeah, it's just down the street here."
We bought some crack and headed back to her place. It was a small room with a bed, TV, and lots of clothing. I said, "What do you do all day?"
She said, "I just watch movies and smoke crack."
I said, "Woah, now that's living!"
Kisha pulled out a small bong. BONG?! WOAH! I had heard so much about crack bongs, but never tried. She started smoking the crack with the bong, and I watched and drooled.
We continued like that for a while, talking as she smoked crack out of this bong. Eventually, she said, "What's that stamp on your hand?"
I said, "Oh, it's the stamp from the cover at the pub. I was having some beer at a pub just before I met you."
She said, "Well, I have some vodka if you would like some."
I said, "HELL YEAH!!" I was already sobering-up and was struggling with the anxiety of watching this chick smoke crack and not toking myself. She got a paper cup and filled it right up. It must have been about eight ounces. I took it in about two shots.
Oh, that was better -- anxiety instantly gone!
I watched Kisha smoke some more crack out of her bong.
She said, "Would you like some more vodka?" Of course I did. Another eight ounces in two shots.
I watched her smoke more crack. I felt good. I said, "Kisha, how about you let me have just one little toot out of that bong? I've never tried a crack bong before. One little toot couldn't hurt, right?"
She said, "Sure!" She loaded up the bong and handed it to me with a torch lighter. I hit it, and... Oh, fuck... I was off to the races.
We smoked up all the crack and went out to buy more. We smoked that up too. ... and bought more.
We kept going like that until there was a knock at the door. It was the guy from the front desk. He said I had to leave, because guests were not allowed after 11 pm. I said, "C'mon, buddy -- let me stay. I'll give you a hundred bucks!" He wouldn't bite. I said, "Well, I will pay for my own room, then..." ...but they were all full up.
So there we were, kicked out onto the street.
I said, "Well, that's okay! Let's just keep toking in the back alley."
Kisha said, "I can't. Toking outdoors does nothing for me. The paranoia overrides the high, and I get nothing out of it. It's a waste for me."
There was a cab there right in front of us, so we hopped in. The driver said, "Where to?"
I said, "I dunno, man -- a cheap hotel, I guess."
The driver started looking up hotels on his tablet and making phone calls. Eventually he said, "It's almost midnight. Everywhere is full." To his credit, he didn't ask us for any money for all of the time he spent.
We got out.
I said, "Okay, Kisha. Here's the deal: I know you don't toke outdoors, but let me hit that bong of yours one more time in the alley, then we will split up the crack that is left and you can go back to your room and smoke it. She agreed. That's what we did and then we said Goodbye.
Before she left, she said, "Here: here is a pipe and some chore and a lighter for you. Thanks for all the crack. Bye."
So there I was smoking crack by myself in the alley. I wanted to go home and smoke it, but I was way too drunk to drive. I didn't want to abandon my car down here either. This is Canada's poorest postal code and a very dangerous place to be alone at night (or leave a car). I realized what Kisha had meant: it was creepy as fuck sitting in this alley smoking crack. Paranoia City and I wasn't really getting high anymore -- just warding off the comedown.
The lighter that Kisha had given me hadn't been new, and soon ran out. I found a corner store that was still open and went in and bought a lighter. A deformed granny came in. She looked like a paper clip. Her back came up, and then curved right back down again so that her head was down around her waist. She said to me, "Excuse me sir, would you buy me a muffin?" Well, I am not in the habit of buying muffins for deformed grannies, but in this case I was so drunk and high that I did. She said, "Thank you, sir," and we both walked out of the store and went our separate ways. I was alone again. ...and afraid.
Suddenly, I turned and ran after the deformed granny. I said, "Excuse me, can I ask you a question?"
She said, "Yeah? What is it?"
I said, "I know it's not safe to be alone down here on these streets at this hour, but can you tell me exactly how dangerous it is?"
She goes, "...for you or for me? For me, it's not dangerous at all. Everyone knows me and they know that I don't have anything. You, on the other hand..."
I said, "That's what I was afraid of. You see, I am stuck down here because I drank too much and I have to wait around until morning before I will be sober enough to drive home."
The deformed granny goes, "Well, hell! You can come back to my place if you want. ...just hang out or sleep or whatever until morning."
My first thought was: HELL NO! ...being seen going back to a deformed granny's place with her? Never! I would rather die!
...but then I realized... ...I really could end up dead out here in the alley...
I said, "Are you allowed guests after 11 pm?"
She said, "Yup. I can have whomever I want all night." ...so we went back to the deformed granny's place.
It was a much nicer and bigger place than Kisha's. I was sitting on the deformed granny's couch. I said, "Wanna smoke some crack?"
She said, "HELL YEAH!!"
She pulled out a torch lighter and we started smoking crack.
"Granny, how did you get started smoking crack?"
She goes, "Well, I had three kids, you see. Then the government came and took them all away from me. A neighbor had contacted them and told them that I was an addict. ...but it wasn't true. The only thing I was using was weed. ...but they took my kids. So I said Fuck it. If they think I'm an addict, I will be an addict. I went out and bought me some crack and I never looked back. That was thirty years ago. I never saw my kids again."
We kept smoking crack until it was gone. The deformed granny said that a plug lived in the building, and we went and bought some more. It was good stuff -- better than the stuff that I had gotten on the street. We kept going like that. Around 8 am the money ran out. I was scraping, pushing, and jonesing. The deformed granny was starting to nod off. I said, "Don't you want to go to bed now? Do you have a bed here?" She didn't. There was just the couch. I said, "Why don't you lie down on the couch, Granny?"
She was like, "No, I'm okay, I'm okay..." ...but then she started to slowly slump forward and was basically just sleeping in her own lap about to fall over onto the floor. I picked her up and layed her down on the couch. I was surprised at how light she was.
I really couldn't believe that she didn't have a bed. I searched around and found a blanket and covered her with it.
Now: on to the task at hand. Surely I could scrape or push a little more out of this pipe? I scraped and pushed all I could. Yes, this would be the last hit of the day. Naturally, my thoughts turned to Carpet Surfing. I really hate doing that. ...but the deformed granny was sound asleep... No one would see... My eyes were slowly drawn down to the floor...
...and what did I see there? A pink baggie with a huge rock in it! WTF??
Am I seeing things? It looked to be about a gram! It must be the deformed granny's. Was the deformed granny holding out on me?
I opened the baggie and took out the huge rock. Well, this isn't mine, but the deformed granny has been smoking my crack all night. Surely I can take just a crumb off of this to supplement the last hit of what I had in the pipe?
I broke off a crumb, put it in the pipe, and hit it.
The next thing I knew, I was on the floor surrounded by paramedics shoving a tube down my throat. There were six of them. They said, "Woah! Woah! His eyes are opening! Hey, buddy, are you okay?"
I pulled the tube out of my throat and said, "Yeah. What happened?"
They said, "You overdosed, buddy. You are lucky to be alive. We thought you were gone. We are only supposed to administer naloxone one time or two times max, but we had to hit you FOUR TIMES in order to get you back! Are you sure you are okay?"
I said, "Yeah, I'm okay."
They said, "Normally, we take someone to the hospital in cases like this. Do you want to go to the hospital?"
I said, "Hell no, I don't want to go to the hospital."
They said, "Alright, then. We can't force you to go to the hospital. Just please please please be careful!" ...and then they left.
I was alone. The deformed granny was nowhere to be found. I just sat there struggling to breathe. My ears were roaring like a freight train and my hands and feet were cramped closed in spasms. My vision was... well, it's difficult to describe, but my eyes were rolling up-and-down so I couldn't see.
Eventually the deformed granny came back. I said, "Where did you go?"
She said, "OMG you are alive! Fuck, you are lucky that I woke up when I did! I woke up and you weren't breathing. Your skin was ash gray and your lips and fingernails were blue! I thought you were dead. I called 911 and when the paramedics came and started working on you, I ran away because I thought I was going to throw up. I really thought you were dead."
I said, "Why?? Why did this happen??"
The deformed granny picked up the pink baggie with the huge rock in it off of the table. She said, "Did you smoke anything out of this pink baggie?"
I said, "Yeah?"
She said, "Oh, fuck, buddy... YOU SMOKED MY FENTANYL!!!"
TL;DR: Always test your drugs and never use alone.
