Bad day
Once, in a fit of desperation, I went down to the Tenderloin to cop. I bought half a gram, and then it literally fell out of my pocket somewhere while I was walking. Being the pitiful, wallowing, dope sick fucker that I was, I spent about 45 minutes 'looking for it' and probably looking horrendously suspcious/silly/crazy/and or idiotic.
Just when I gave up, I was mugged near a particularly dangerous corner in the same area. My ipod was stolen, 200$ (ah yes, the idiocy that is street copping with that much cash in your messanger bag), works, and phone charger. My phone was dead. My friend who was supposed to meet me in front of his apartment stood me up. I had a measly 15$ in my pocket and bought more dope. At this point I had spent every dime I had and didn't even have enough money to get back on the train to go home.
I planned on spanging at the train station and having strangers unknowingly support my heroin addiction in order to get home. I walked to the station. Then a strange feeling came over me. I had to make sure the dope was still tucked safely away in a 'secret pocket' in my pants. Oh the horror that was to come. I LOST THE DOPE AGAIN. How, I don't know, but perhaps someone or something just did not want me to get high that night.
I ended up seeing this kid attempting to do the same thing as I. He was about my age and clean-cut looking, rather like me, with a somewhat alternative style. For some reason though, my mind screamed 'junkie!' when I saw him. We gravitated towards each other perhaps by ways of some sort of universal smack consciousness. Turns out he had a pretty giant habit himself and also had a connect with the best stuff in the Bay Area, which isn't saying much, mind you, but it was better than nothing. We put our money together and went to his dealer. He slept over at my apartment for two nights and gave me a cool pair of pants. We ate a lot of breakfast food.
The end.
PS I was like 2 years old so don't snark me. Thanks!