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.
Totally healthy.
Fuck.
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.
This town…
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?
Who knows.
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.
But
You know
They were probably on drugs.
