One of the places I lived for a year (there have been a bunch at this point) had this crazy drug culture.
It was so incredibly casual.
Given that I grew up in a situation where the only person I really knew doing drugs of any kind was SUPER abusive, my sense that any could be done without throwing someone into a violent or manipulate rage was a little beyond me.
…but I liked this boy and I wanted him to be able to trust me since I’d ALREADY MOVED across the county to live with our shared good friend.
Basically, I was stuck and had to desperately pretend everything was fine.
Honestly, if I had truly understood what it would have been like before moving, I would have gone someplace else.
BUT I didn’t, so then I learned the lingo in order not to feel like I was gonna get killed.
I was still pretty much ostracized in my own apartment, but I’ve already talked about that plenty.
Dealers were everywhere, selling to each other. I didn’t understand how anyone made any money.
Meanwhile, I was there like:
It wasn’t all scary though. There were some good people who may have also just been swept up one way or another, AND there were some neat dance clubs.
One was on a train!
…actually, I should do a post about some of those…
But first, let’s talk about this super weird experience that probably happens all the time.
This particular dance club was a temporarily set up situation in a hotel.
Downstairs was a room with space enough to dance, a stage area for the DJ (someone I knew, in fact) and some tables and chairs. In the back was the bar area.
I was pretty content sitting and listening to the music, watching people groove on.
Every now and then I’d either get up to dance, or a friend would drag me to dance.
In retrospect, it was one of the few times in my adult life that I had more lady-friends around than dudes.
That part, I liked.
That part did not involve life threatening situations and looking right in the face of a police officer while wondering why he wasn’t helping me.
(I figured he either A. Couldn’t tell if I was also a dealer and didn’t want to risk ruining my life for nothing so just didn’t get involved or B. Was on drugs.)
At some point I wandered off to get some air and possibly to find a friend of mine?
I wound up in a classy hall area that had a grand piano, some couches, and these two strange people.
The Maximoff Drug Twins
I call them that because I don’t know if they were brother and sister or dating or just good friends or business partners, and the fact that I can’t tell is a little funky on some level…
And he was vibrating levels of hyper while she was just super weird.
I got cornered and eventually wound up sitting on a couch with them as though we were having a real conversation.
They offered me a million types of ways to get high, all of which I declined, and some of which I had no idea what the shit even was.
Nothing was physically on them (they weren’t that stupid), but they were more than willing to bring me somewhere for it.
I declined for a thousand reasons.
When they learned that I wasn’t just not interested in going to a random house, but I was also not interested in getting high, they had some amazing questions.
First, they naturally assumed I was either loyal to competition, or that I was competition myself.
Then they wanted to know how I DID have fun???
I calmly explained that I enjoy many things, and I avoid mind altering substances for reasons attached to my childhood, but also because I have bad reactions to things anyway.
Upon learning that I’m prone to panic attacks, and that I used to have all kinds of hallucinations even as a kid, they became entirely mesmerized by me.
I felt like I had become the drug.
I don’t remember how I even got out of there. I probably feigned having to go to the bathroom, and then snuck (sneaked?) back in to the dancing room…
I remember my friends not even noticing I was gone so long.
They were probably on drugs.