Your too much of a lazy bastard to get off the fucking couch and help your g/f clean the house or even wash the same filthy glass youve been using for the past week but you fucking run to the drugstore for your opiate scripts.
You lick your dirty drug desk that hasent been washed since your last amphetamine binge because you know there has to be abit of opiates left on there due to all the cooking up/crushing up of pills youve done on there since you felt like you where going to keel over from a heart attack due to speed about 6 months ago.
The pharmacist knows you by face and name in a huge fucking chain store and smiles and doesent even bat a eye when you come in with your retarded opiate scripts every month or every 2 weeks depending on if you ran out early or not for the 3rd year straight.
The same pharmacist doesent even bat a eye when you walk in less then a week later buying OTC codeine cause you have that damn flu back again and the morphine and hydromorphone just ain't cutting it.
Every fucking pharmacist in the goddamn city seems to know you and you get ratted out for buying sterile water not the 100's of times youve bought syringes at the very same places. Yes that actually happened to me
The various pharmacies you bring your scripts to now love you because they are making a killing off your insurance.
Your insurance company is threating to kill you
You dealer gives you free crack because youve been such a good customer and damn do you love your pseudo-speedballs.
You realize that the $300 that went up your crack pipe could have bought a awesome gift for your g/f or have payed for food instead when you are snapped out of your nod by your g/f calling to see where the fuck you are at 3AM after going out for a walk about 6 hours earlier.