Easy come, difficult go ( part 2 )

Once I hit the corner of the complex at the main road I started running. I had to find somewhere to puke up these balloons or I was going to lose them forever. When I made it down to the corner store I hit the open door in a full sprint and just said "BATHROOM" as I ran by the clerk. About 15 to 20 minutes or so had passed since I had to choke them down in front of the squad car. I'd hoped that I wasn't too late. 

I tried for awhile before I realized my fears were a reality. With three fingers completely in my throat I'd thrown up about 5-6 times but no balloons. I stuck my head under the faucet an tried waterboarding myself for awhile. I threw up a few more times but still no dope. After about 20 minutes of abuse I'd decided I'd better get outta this guys bathroom before he started to ask questions and considering I wasn't able to retrieve my stash I had to make plans to move forward. 

It was just as I was leaving the gas station I realized the situation. I was alone again, broke and with no drugs. I headed back to our camp and scoured our cookers and combined that with the 1/2 a shot I had saved from earlier that afternoon. After combining everything I could find i thinned the mixture out into 2 shots on hopes to conserve. I didn't know where I was going to be getting drugs from anymore. Only Brandon had the Mexican's number and even if I could track him down he didn't know me and I highly doubted I'd be able to convince him to serve me. I pulled up my sleeve and grabbed the string off my hoodie and cinched it down on my right forearm. My arms were showing signs of tremendous wear. I had hard veins to locate in general and combining that with the bender I'd just been on made it almost impossible to get a register anywhere. I don't know if it was my veins or frustration but I must have poked myself close to 50 times that night before I got my shot off. I was so emotionally frazzled I barely felt the fix. Brandon was gone, I barely knew where I was and didn't have much of any way to make money. I wasn't about to hit any houses alone after the cops just arrested Brandon after receiving a call that he and I were casing apartments no more then 4 blocks away and we had burnt the neighborhood in the other three directions. I didn't really like panhandling and truthfully even if I did I had nobody to get drugs from as I had no connection now that Brandon was gone. At about 2am I packed what little I had and caught the Decatur bus southbound and headed back to Tropicana ave. Most of the city was still new to me. I remember that ride taking especially long. I was the only person on the bus for most of the trip. 

What was I to do now? What were my options? I'd pretty much assumed Andy was out of the question. Josh was an option but he could be hard to track down sometimes. Did I even want to go this route? Start over? Alone? Again? 

I got off the bus at Trop and Decatur and decided to walk for awhile. I started thinking about what I had left behind back in California. An ex wife I had completely screwed over, my precious son that I loved so much, a family that had tried really hard to help me get clean and on my feet again. Not to mention handfuls of friends I had either robbed, cond, or pushed away in my quest for the next high. I can't say that it didn't effect me. I was torn apart inside and out. I hadn't even done anything in vegas yet and I already felt like the city was moments away from spitting me out like flavorless juicy fruit. 

I made it to the in and out long past closing. I was still not comfortable going down to the tunnels without Becca. I found a blanket I had stashed and headed to a concrete dumpster enclosure I had scouted out prior to meeting Andy when I arrived on Trop. There was no dumpster in it just a few boxes I broke down to put on the ground. 

I had already gotten accustomed to using my backpack as a pillow so I was set. I pulled out a slice of pizza from my bag and realized I had a fair amount of food so I felt a little better that I didn't have to wake up in the morning sick and hungry. I never really slept that night. I was more then uneasy. For the first time since I'd left home I felt truly scared. 

I contemplated so many options that night into the morning but I kept coming back to the same conclusion. I wanted to go home. The thought of getting clean wasn't what I wanted. I just wanted to be back in California. I wanted to see my son and my family. I wanted out of vegas. 

I inventoried my backpack and packed up my things a little after sunrise so I could escape my tomb before the In-n-Out truck drivers came by in the morning. 2 pieces of pizza, a handful of random junk food, multivitamins Brandon's mom had given me and a box of powdered juice mixes I had stolen from her awhile back. I pulled out my last shot and got it off pretty easy. It was then I saw the folded up paper I'd stashed in the box. I'd completely forgotten I'd put it there. 

I'd seen Andy phone his dealer tons of times on all kinds of phones. After awhile I had almost memorized the sequence. One night after last call while Andy was in the truck with Pete the driver I'd confirmed my studies by looking in his phone and copying down the number. I didn't think my chances were very good of getting them to meet me but at this point I was running out of options. I headed for the strip to try to round up some cash and plan out my next move.

I hadn't really had much experience with hustling on the strip. That in conjunction with all I was going through had put me in an unmotivated haze. I basically just wandered north on Las Vegas boulevard from Trop gathering cigarettes and bumming change. By the time I had reached A pay phone by the The Flamingo I was mentally exhausted. I thought I was out of options, that I had ran out of options. The proverbial bottom. To piggyback my feelings of woe, I had walked a few miles and hadn't even made $5. I reached for the pay phone and called the only person who I thought would listen. I hoped she hadn't changed her number.

"Mom? Hey it's me...... I'm okay...... I miss you guys....... How's Mason?..... I know I know I screwed up but I'm clean....... But I wanna come home..... I don't need to "complete a program" I just wanna come home.... Okay, I see..... I'm gonna stay sober either way...... Love you."

I hung up the phone. Tough love is hard to take. I'd been lying to my Mom. I knew it, she knew it and we both knew I wasn't getting any better. In fact, I was worse than ever. I used the remaining $3 to buy pop and some more snacks and basically sulked my way back to my concrete cell behind the In-n-Out.

I laid there for hours. It wasn't even sundown and I was already getting sick and completely out of drugs and money with nobody to turn to. I tossed and turned all night. Each hour getting worse and worse. Hours before dawn my stomach started to bubble. It was too early to hit the in and out bathroom and I wasn't in any physical state to go vary far at all. I was approaching 15 hours without getting high and it was only going to get worse from here. But I really had to go. I found some napkins in my backpack and ran to the adjacent dumpster enclosure. Shitting outside wasn't something I had gotten used to. It still felt disgusting but when your detox is as bad as mine was at that time pride, morals and self respect go down whatever toilet you end up using. I leaned my back against the enclosure wall into a kind of chair position and did my business. Upon completion I cleaned myself and stood up. As I went to hide the evidence I noticed something unusual laying right next to my stool. A red and a yellow balloon, Intact and stainless. I was beside myself with excitement and extremely grossed out with what I new I was about to do. 

Truly, it wasn't difficult to reclaim my stash. It was in plain site. No digging was required. I still felt filthy about the situation but by this point my addiction was completely running the show. As luck would have it, the dealers in Vegas package the heroin and cocaine for just such a situation. I did my shot and went to the bathroom and clean up. 

Now I had a big decision to make. I was well now but still broke and had no dealer. Not to mention being broke with little to no hustle game in the area. I was returning to the same crossroads over and over again. Hustle and try to score or wave the white flag and head to west care. This time the only difference was I had a number I could call and if I worked my magic right I'd have a dealer all my own that delivered. And the clock was ticking.

If you would like to contribute to my efforts at stopping addiction please visit:

http://gofundme.com/q9vqkg

Together we can make a difference.

Easy come, difficult go. Part 1 of two

The bus ride back to Brandon's side of town seemed like it took hours. On the way Brandon told me he fixed in the bathroom at the house and decided he was either going to check back into WestCare or do what he does best. Of course, once you're high crime doesn't seem like such a big deal. He thought the first house he hit was a total bust. There were no electronics, no guns, no jewelry. He told me he plopped down on the bed in the master bedroom and considered killing himself. While weighing his options he looked in the bedside night stand and BOOM! There it was, $900 in cash. As he usually does when he feels like he's got time he made his way to the house phone and called the Mexican. Normally dealers won't cover the entire town but Brandon said he wanted $700 worth so his dude was willing to make the trip.

After squaring up with the driver Brandon came back to get his rigs and backpack and decided to let me in on his score.

"I wanted to share this with you man. You have been a good friend." Brandon said

I didn't know what to say. He could have easily just told me he was going to rehab or back to his parents and I would have been none the wiser. But instead the kid wanted to continue his adventures with me. Most of me was happy. Some of me had wished he would have left me behind. 

"Thank you man. We make a pretty good team." I said

We spent the next week holed up in a new more out of the way alley shooting speedballs and eating little Caesars. Junkies don't have a care in the world when they have dope and money. It's as if the gas tank is on full and you love to cruise the countryside. However that night money was running low and so was our supply. We decided to drum up some funds before we ran out of drugs and made out way to an apartment complex down the road since we had burned up all the suburbs in the area in the past few months. We had been partially conserving our drugs and still had a good amount left. I only had 2 balloons on my which I carried in my mouth. Brandon had way too many to carry so he had about 14 in his backpack. 

We hopped the wall on the backside of the complex at about 11pm. Brandon had told me he had scoped the property a while back and they had no security guard so it was safe. We walked around for about an hour before we realized that hitting apartments with no car would be difficult and there wasn't any units that looked like easy pickings. As we rounded the drive to the front of the place we were ready to call it quits. We headed for the front gate and the driveway gate began to open. 

It happened fast. First the red and blue overhead lights came on, then headlights, then the spotlight. Before we could do anything LVPD was right on top of us.

"Stop right there. Come to the front of my car. Don't run." The voice said over the police cars PA.

"Put your hands in the front of the car." The mans voice said. 

We just sat there for a few minutes until the other car showed up at which time the cop got out of his car and began shouting questions about what we were doing and why we were in the complex. Brandon tried to juggle out a story to the officer. I said nothing. I didn't want to crosstalk Brandon and get us caught in a lie, not to mention I had balloons in my mouth. 

The cop didn't buy Brandon's story and separated us. This was the first time in my life I'd ever had to swallow balloons. It wasn't really that hard but I knew if the cop had any idea I was holding he would had most certainly taken me in. I told the cop I was just walking with my buddy and, as Brandon had said, we were looking for a friends apartment. It was about that time the other cop searching Brandon found his stash in his backpack. The cop asked to search my bag and i obliged. I had nothing to hide that wasn't already in my stomach. To my surprise as soon as the cop finished searching my backpack and my record came back clean he told me to leave. I didn't stick around. I felt really bad but they told me Brandon ahead told the cops it was all his and i had no idea about any of the drugs or needles they found on him. He took the blame for everything. I still remember making eye contact with Brandon sitting in the back of the second squad car as I briskly left the scene. I was grateful but did not have the luxury of showing it. I hoped the look on my face had expressed my gratitude.

If you would like to contribute to my efforts at stopping addiction please visit:

http://gofundme.com/q9vqkg

Together we can make a difference.

Sorry for the wait ( this is just an apology )

I just wanted to apologize for the 6 month hiatus. I lost my phone and used that as an excuse not to continue with this. Truth is I owe it to myself and the 20,000+ that have already read my tale thus far. That said I'm going to be posting again! Yay! 

The next few happenings are going to get pretty dark and crazy so that could be part of my reason for neglect. To timeline I'm only about a 2-3 months into being in the streets at this point so there is a lot to tell. Thank you Again for all your support. I hope I haven't lost your interest.

-C

If you would like to contribute to my efforts at stopping addiction please visit:

http://gofundme.com/q9vqkg

Together we can make a difference.

Homeless extortion

I could tell the events that were unfolding were taking their toll on Brandon. He didn't outright show it but I could just see it on his face. He'd never been this deep into his addiction, into crime and into homelessness. For that matter I hadn't either. I wondered if my poker face was as bad as his. 

After offing all the plunders from the last burglary we were set for a few days. A purse I had grabbed off the counter had almost $400 inside. That combined with the gun, the 3 laptops and all the miscellaneous jewelry and video games had yielded us more dope than we could even carry between the two of us in our mouths. It had been weeks since either one of us had showered. I asked Brandon if he thought getting a hotel was a good idea but Brandon had what we thought at the time was a better idea. 

We went to a social services office the next day. In Clark county Nevada, contrary to popular belief, there is a fair amount of help for the homeless. You just have to not be strung out long enough to keep it together and get the assistance. Or in our case, have enough drugs to not have to work for awhile. Brandon knew that there were 30 day rent vouchers you could get to help get you on your feet for up to 3 months. In addition to the vouchers, there were homeowners that would take you in and help you get your ID if you didn't have one as long as you contribute with food stamps and pay for a room in their rental homes with your vouchers. I remember thinking of it as a foster family for struggling adults. As I would quickly come to realize, the operation was much more seedy than I had imagined.

The papers to fill out for your ID, rent vouchers and food stamps were easily obtained. I grabbed my applications and snuck off to a trash enclosure to fix and fill them out. When I returned Brandon was talking to a guy I could easily tell was an addict and a slender, older well dressed Asian man. I remember thinking to myself, this kid is a natural.

Joe was a soft spoken man. His spirit seemed much younger than he actually was. He must have been at least 55. But he was willing to give us a place to stay, rent free for two weeks as long as we were willing to give over our vouchers for the next 3 months each. The younger man that accompanied him was 25 or so, about my age, he looked like he had been recently taken off the streets also. He sang Joe's praises as if he were a saint.

"So you guys are coming? That's awesome! Joe is a great man! You will be well taken care of." The man said

"We are heading back to the house now if you would like to get cleaned up I can meet with you gentlemen in the morning and we can figure out a timeline for getting you boys on track." Joe said

I didn't even have to say a word. Brandon did all the talking. We got in Joe's new BMW SUV and headed for our new place. 

The 5 bedroom home had a converted living room and garage set to accommodate up to 12 people in total. 2 in each bedroom and 2 in the living room and the garage had various lockers and storage closets. The math didn't sit well with me. At maximum capacity Joe was "renting" the home for a hefty $4,800 per month and based on the discussion I had heard in the car on the way Joe owned 3 other homes with the same set up and they were not only paid for but they were full. Taking advantage of dozens of people that were down in there luck combined with the uneasy feeling joe gave me anytime I looked at him I realized this wasn't shaping up to be as great an idea as we had first planned.

Surprisingly the next week went by with ease and routine. I'd wake up sick early in the morning, head down to the walmart down the street to fix and panhandle money in the parking lot for cigarettes and food. All the while Joe and the housemates assumed I was "looking for work". Brandon hardly left the house. During this time he had taken to showering 2 times a day. This gave him the time to shoot up in the only privacy he could find. 

By the end of the week I was almost out of drugs. Brandon was completely out. He woke me up just before sunrise and asked me if I had anything to help him out. I opened my backpack. 2 balloons. Just the 2 and that was it from all we had shown up with. I was never the type to hold out on a friend. I gave him one but told him we were either going to have to detox without anyone in the house knowing or go get more. Brandon told me not to worry and that he had another plan. I gave him a balloon and told him, as I had often to this point, to be careful and think about what he was going to do before doing anything drastic.

I tried to sleep in late since I had no idea what I was getting into in the days to come. I had kicked without people knowing in the past. Mind over matter, I'd always told myself. Maybe I'd call my mom and see if she was willing to speak to me again. Maybe I'd go back to WestCare. It's crazy all the things that go through your head when you know you are in the downside of a bad idea. Logic told me our stay at the homeless hotel was about to run out. Maybe I could make the best of it and try to get clean. With the way my life had been the last few months that idea wouldn't be so bad.

Brandon apparently didn't feel the same way. I was just getting up when he busted into the room and quickly started packing his  things. 

"You alright man? What's wrong?" I asked

"Absolutely nothing bro! Let's get the fuck outta here!" He said

"I'm gonna stay here man it's safer here and we are outta shit." I said

"You can stay if you want but we aren't quite outta shit." Brandon said and pulled a ziplock snack bag out of his pocket almost completely full of balloons. 

"Well that's that then I guess. 2 things though. 1 where should we go and 2 where the hell did you get all that dope?" I said.

If you would like to contribute to my efforts at stopping addiction please visit:

http://gofundme.com/q9vqkg

Together we can make a difference.

By the cover of the late afternoon

We waited until sundown to trek to the house Brandon had predetermined would be our best bet. He knew nobody was home, knew where the hide-a-key was and more or less exactly what he wanted to grab. I was apprehensive to say the least. 

I've come to learn that many junkies don't always commit crimes to feed there habit. Whether it's guts or morals or anything of that nature, it takes a certain type of mindset to be okay with knowingly committing a crime to feed your habit. Though this was not my first time breaking the law, I was having doubts that I was interested in going through with our plans. It was at that time Brandon called for my backpack.

The home was your average 2 parent 2 child home, 1 master bedroom, 2 kids rooms. Brandon had already finished up in the parents room and instructed me to tackle the kids rooms with my bag while he pillaged the living room, office and kitchen for whatever else was left. 

I kind of poked around for a second. After all, I didn't know the place like Brandon. The older child of the family was a friend of his from high school. Someone he grew up with, played with on the playground. Now, this friend and his family had become no more then a mark. 

I found a portable DVD player, laptop, money jar and a few other items before Brandon busted in the room and told me he was ready to depart.

Thievery on this level was pitiful and dangerous. The part of Vegas we were in (as most of the Clark county area) was always full of cops buzzing around looking for criminals. It was about a 2-3 mile hike back to the alley we would be calling home for the night but we wouldn't have to wait that long to score. When we reached Burger King the Mexican was already waiting for Brandon. The kid had the nerve to call his dude from the house phone in the home we had just robbed. Brandon took my backpack and rode off to the other side of the parking lot and hopped out with 2 empty backpacks and another mouthful of balloons. 

"He took everything! I'll split it with you but next time we are selling out shit independent. Cool?" Brandon said

"That's fine." I said

I put my balloons in my mouth and headed towards the burger king to fix in the bathroom and told Brandon I'd be back at the alley in a few. 

Fixing in a high traffic bathroom requires much skill if you don't want anyone knowing what your doing. I was getting used to it. Coming to grips with the fact that you are comfortable shooting speedballs in fast food bathrooms is something you would think wouldn't fall by the wayside. Not for me. I was proud. Maybe I didn't have many things to be proud of. Whatever the reason was I was getting cocky. 

Now I just want to state that I wasn't trying to overdose. Push the limits? Yes. Get really high? Absolutely. However, as I pushed the plunger down I still remember thinking to myself;

"Oh no....... that was way too much."

I don't even remember hitting the ground. I don't exactly know how long I was lying there or how exactly the Burger King shift manager found out I was on the floor. 

"Sir!!!! Sir!!! Wake up!" The shift manager said

As I woke up the man tried to hold me on the ground. I kicked him off and pulled the 1/2 full needle out of my arm all the while scrambling to pick up all the drugs that must have fallen out of my mouth when I collapsed.

"The police are on their way." the manager said

I didn't say a word. I just ran. Out of the bathroom. Out of the restaurant. Out of the shopping complex. To that point in my life that was the highest I had ever been. I could barely stay upright. My mind felt as though I must have been all over the place as I ran. 

Our alley wasn't too far down the road. I hit the couch and didn't even wake Brandon sitting on the other side, the straw still dangling from his mouth with a trail on his foil that looked like he had smoked about a gram of dope before nodding out. 

The next few days were more of the same. We hit houses during the day while people were at work and their kids were in school, sometimes 2 to 4 houses a day for about a week or so. Late one afternoon we came upon a house that was locked up tight but we could see that the alarm wasn't set from the window. Brandon also noticed that there were 2 laptops in the home office. I tried the windows and Brandon went around back. After trying all the windows I had decided to give up. As I rounded the corner to the back of the house I found Brandon trying to pry the backdoor open with a garden shovel he had found on the grass.

"We gotta get in there man my dude wants laptops." He said

"C'mon man it's locked up tight we'll get them somewhere else." I said

"Nah, I know what will get the door open!" He said

He leaned over and picked up a full sized cinder block that looked like it had been being used for a doorstop. Before I could say a word Brandon hurtled the concrete towards the window of the French door. It went straight through. I reached up and unlocked the door and just a so opened the door the alarm sounded. 

"We should go!" I said

"No! We hurry!" Brandon said and ran for the laptops.

I started shoveling items into my bag in the living room. Xbox, wallet, jewelry and a digital camera. I met Brandon in the hall and just as we got close to each other the alarm stopped ringing. Startled we split up the rooms to finish the job. Seconds later I heard the backdoor open. Brandon quietly ran into the bathroom and I followed behind and noticed through the mirror at the end of the hall that the person that entered the house wasn't the police that I expected but a woman. A younger woman maybe 25 years old. I closed the bathroom door and quietly consulted with my accomplice.

"What do we do now?" I said

"Just stay in here I'll handle it." Brandon said and reached into his backpack and pulled out a pistol.

"Where the fuck did you get that?" I said

"The last house we hit." Brandon said

"Is it loaded?" I asked

"Yea but it doesn't matter I'm just gonna scare her then we go. Got it?" He said

"Keep your cool man." I said

Brandon walked the hall to the end and krept around the corner, gun raised.

"Don't scream! I'm not gonna hurt you as long as you keep quiet. Are you alone?" He said

The girl shook her head yes and Brandon kicked over a toolbox in the corner of the living room. I saw him toss the girl a roll of duct tape.

"Don't make it too lose or I'll do it." He said

The girl bound her legs and Brandon finished her wrists. 

"Ok. We are gonna leave now.." Brandon said and was interrupted by the woman whaling. He proceeded to stick the barrel of the gun in her mouth. Her eyes widened and her sound was reduced to a whimper. 

"Stop man! Leave her alone! Let's get the fuck outta here!" I yelled

"Just be quiet and this will be over in just a second." Brandon commanded

It was at that moment we heard the police cars pull up in the front yard. We both made quick tracks for the master bedroom's adjacent bathroom and hopped out the shower window. Leaving out that window wasn't easy. The window was over 5 feet in the air and there wasn't much room to squeeze through. I hit the ground in a bush in the side yard face first. My adrenaline was pumping so hard I didn't notice. I hopped up and was instantly in a full sprint down the side street. 

We ran for what seemed like forever. I don't know for sure if we were the reason for the show, but by the time we made it to the taco shop down the road we could see a helicopter circling the neighborhood we had somehow managed to escape.

"Holy shit dude." I said

"That was too close!" Brandon said

"We gotta off this shit now. Call your dude. And SELL HIM THAT GUN!" I said

"For sure." Brandon said and headed for the pay phone.

If you would like to contribute to my efforts at stopping addiction please visit:

http://gofundme.com/q9vqkg

Together we can make a difference.

Learning Priorities

The ride to WestCare, the free detox and rehab on the north end of Las Vegas blvd, seemed to take forever. Now Andy's mom was jogging the conversation back and forth between grilling me for information about how much her son was actually using and trying to tell me I too needed to "get my shit together". I just bounced around the questions and didn't give her any real info. I had already started feeling bad about outing her son and what was more selfish, I realized I now had no way to get drugs. 

During that trip, I told myself I was gonna ride this rehab for all it was worth and see if they could help me get clean. I missed my family and my 2 year old son and I knew I had no chance of seeing anyone if I was still using. 

Andy's mom dropped me off in front of a building that resembled a private practice doctors office on a side street with no real sidewalks.

"This is it Christopher. Good luck!" she said 

"Thank you." I said and closed the door

I was already sick and had no money and no cigarettes so there was no turning back now. I headed toward the front door of the building.

The entryway of WestCare is not welcoming to say the least. An all white hallway, floor to ceiling, with a wooden half door with a few signs up in an attempt to ward off all of the stupid questions. I approached the door and was greeted by a man in a polo shirt with a grey mustache.

"Can I help you?" He said with ought looking up from his paperwork.

"I'd like to see about checking in." I said

"We are full you'll have to comeback after 4pm when we do discharges." The man said

"But I have nowhere else to go." I said 

"You can wait across the street under the big tree and if anything changes we will come out and get you. I'm sorry but we are full right now. Are you in immediate need of medical attention?" He said

"I don't think so, I'm just sick." I said

"Sick or detoxing?" he said

"Detoxing." I said

"From what? Heroin? Booze? What?" He asked

"Heroin." I said

"When was the last time you used?" He asked

"About 10pm last night." I said 

"Hang in there kid and we will get you in here for an exam as soon as we can get a bed ready ok?" He said

"Ok." I said and headed back outside.

It was only about 10:30am when I sat down under the big tree in the field of gravel across the street from the rehab. No money, no cigarettes, no phone and really I had nobody to call even if I had one. 

In a way I felt bad about what I did to Andy. I'd felt he deserved it though. He'd been steeling dope from me for weeks and the whole time masquerading as being my best friend. It's crazy how drugs can make you feel like everything's great when you're high. How in that moment no matter what's wrong in your life you are OKAY. I had spent the last month living with a scheming drug addict I barely knew that had convinced me into helping him commit a felony so we could go on a big drug binge and eventually, and in a short timeline I might add, end up worse off then we were before. But, somehow while I was doing these things being high allowed me to consider this a positive, happy situation for myself. Now with the drugs gone and the truth in front of me I found myself again alone and looking for help. 

I must have laid there tossing and turning on that gravel for hours because when the woman poked her head out of the door of the building to tell me I could come in the sun was on my face. I got in earlier than expected though not much. After filling out my paperwork and being searched the man with the mustache explained to me that I could only stay for 4 days unless I was interested in going to the their long term program which they referred to as "the mountain", a 30 day intake program on top of the Las Vegas valley mountains. I told them I was interested and the man said I could talk to my counselor about that tomorrow. For now it was time to rest. 

The men's dorm was nothing more than a huge room filled with hospital beds. Though the accommodations were strange I was actually grateful to have a place to rest. I was getting pretty sick by dinner time. 

Meals, meds, and meetings were all mandatory. WestCare had an open door policy so everyone there could leave at anytime. I gave my dinner away as I was too sick to eat and squirmed around in my chair until the AA/NA meeting was over. At about 9pm I was so week I could barely make my way back to my bed. I knew then it was gonna be a long night. Smoking cigarettes when you are sick, for a smoker like me, is vital. This was a no smoking facility which made things a lot more difficult. 

I tossed and turned all night. I wasn't the only one though. The room was alive with grunts and wails from every bed. When the lights came on for breakfast and prayer in the morning some of the faces had changed.  

During breakfast I tried to look around and see if there were any other heroin addicts in the men's pod. I made eye contact with a younger guy who looked like he was scouting the same thing I was. I sat down with my tray and tried to think of something clever to say.

"You gonna eat?" I asked the younger guy

"Hell no. Even if I could this food sucks." He said 

"Yea I hear ya. I'm too sick to eat anyway," I said

"Me too. You kicking black?" He asked

"Yea man. Bad" I said

"Me too. I just wanna get outta here." He said

"I came in wanting to make this work but I'm so sick now and they won't let us smoke. It's got me really stressed. Plus I don't have any money anyway." I said

"My dude will front me as soon as I leave if you wanna go pick up. If we leave now by the time we get off the bus by where I stay he will be there. You wanna go?" He said

"What's the catch?" I asked

"No catch. I just don't wanna get high alone." He said 

"What's your name kid?" I asked 

"Brandon." He said and stuck out his hand

"Well Brandon. I'm Chris. You are 100% sure you're okay with me tagging along and your dude will be cool with the front?" I asked

"Yea man 100% lets just say I'm a preferred customer." he said

"Alright man I'm convinced. Let's get our stuff and get going. If I get any sicker I'm going to start puking all over the place." I said

Within minutes we were at the gas station on Las Vegas blvd panhandling money for the phone call. Brandon was a 1/2 Mexican half white kid and said he was 19 though I had my suspicions he was younger. He spoke to the guy on the phone all in Spanish and confirmed the front. Minutes later we were on the bus. 

Sitting on the bus I had enough time to realize what I had just done. I left another rehab and was on my way to another part of town I was unfamiliar with to hopefully get free drugs from some kid who said it was a sure thing. On top of that I had just realized I wasn't going to be going to "the mountain" to get clean and hopefully speak to my family and get my sobriety underway. It's sad how no matter how important these things are when your strung out and sick getting high, no matter how difficult, is the priority. Again, though I knew full well the extent of my poor judgment, I just wanted to feel better.

When we got off the bus Brandon headed to the phone to call his guy and let him know he was there. He returned to tell me he'd be there in 10 minutes. Across the street was a neighborhood Walmart that had a pharmacy. I had no rigs and Brandon informed me he was a smoker so we headed across the street to panhandle a few bucks to buy rigs from the pharmacy and some foil. The first person I asked gave me $20 and Brandon $10. As soon as we walked out if the Walmart Brandon was greeted by a dark blue Toyota and told me to wait across the street. 

When he got out of the car it looked like he had just taken a bite out of a $6 burger. His mouth was full of balloons. 

"I guess you are a preferred customer." I joked

Brandon nodded, his mouth too full of balloons to speak. We quickly made our way down the street to an alley Brandon seemed to know well. I sat down and yore the bottom off of a can I found in the alley. As I was cooking my dope up I decided to make small talk.

"You stay here?" I asked

"Sometimes when I need to." Brandon said

"How'd you get in such good graces with your dude?" I asked

" I spend a lot of money and get him things he wants for his family." He said

"What kind of stuff?" I asked

"Anything really. Laptops, watches, movies. Whatever he wants really. Can you make one of those up for me?" Brandon said

"A shot? Yeah. Have you done this before?" I asked

"Yea I have. Can you help me though? I'm not very good at it." He asked

"Sure man. It's the least I can do with you helping me get well." I said 

I shot up Brandon then myself. The feeling of relief set in and we both just laid there in the couch for a few minutes before Brandon pulled out some foil and loaded a piece for us to share.

"K I've got one last question." I said

"Fire away." He said

"How do you get all the stuff your guy asks for?" I asked

"I lick houses. And if your down I have a list of some things I need to pick up for my guy tonight. And I know just where to find it all." He said

If you would like to contribute to my efforts at stopping addiction please visit:

http://gofundme.com/q9vqkg

Together we can make a difference.

The Misery of Company

We were up early. Anticipation I guess you'd call it. Or eager junkies. Whatever it was we were calling for a ride at 7:30 am. Andy was sick. Not to bad yet but still noticeable. We caught a ride from the same guy that I'd met the night Andy and I first met at the In-n-Out. An Asian guy who thought heroin was fun from time to time. He never used needles and always overpaid so Andy could get a fix for hooking him up. We met Andy's dealer at about 9am, all got high an headed to the storage unit where the buyer for the stamps said he kept his gear for his business. On the way Kenny, the Asian guy, took us by Raising Cain's. It was the best meal I'd had in a few days. 

We arrived promptly at 10am. The buyer was already in the parking lot and called Andy just as I stepped out of the truck. I introduced myself as Andy was pulling the rolls out of his backpack. The buyer looked them over and pulled out a rubber banded wad of 20's and 100's.

"Thanks guys. It's all there. Give me a call if you get any more." The buyer said

As Andy counted the money I thanked the man and let him know we would be in touch.

It wasn't 30 seconds and we were back in the truck and Andy was shelling out my share of the $1,600 with one hand and on the phone with the dealer with the other.

"Where are you? Yeah I got it. I need a lot. K I'll be there." Andy hung up the phone and we headed to the hotel.

We had decided to spend $400 initially on drugs and $220 on a week at The Blue Angel, a seedy little rathole of a hotel Andy knew about on east Fremont st in the other side of town.  We sped over to the hotel and had Kenny check us in as neither Andy or myself had ID. Andy called back to tell the driver what room we were in. He was there in ten minutes. 

Pete wasn't the kind of guy you envision when you think of a drug delivery guy. About 6' 350 pounds 45 years old with a wheeze in his breath and a heavy New York accent with stains on his stretched out pocketed tee and elastic gym shorts.

Pete came and left in a matter of seconds and there we were with a hotel room, almost $1000 cash and $400 worth of heroin and cocaine. There was silence for bout 2 minutes before an all out binge was underway. I was quickly erasing my lack of habit. We shot speedballs nonstop for hours.  At about 7:45pm, Just before the dealers closing time, we were almost out of drugs and decided to call back for another restock for the night. 

Pete was back at the room about 8:30pm as his last stop for the day and sold us everything he had left, another $320 worth. 

The whole time, between shooting up and throwing up, Andy and I continued to share stories and BS about our lives. It's strange how doing drugs with someone can make you the best of friends. In that moment that person is not only someone you can confide in, but someone who is perfectly fine seeing you for what you are. I took happiness in that which for an addict, as I have learned, is a horrible and false sense of security.  

I woke up at about 10am to Andy cooking up a wake up shot and handing me my rig. I set it on the counter and headed across the street to McDonald's to grab us breakfast. This was my first time on foot on east Fremont. In about 100 yards getting to the crosswalk to get to McDonald's I was asked for money, cigarettes and if I had a phone. This was the moment I realized where I was. The depths of poverty, addiction and crime were thick here. Was this where I chose to be? The place where I thought I'd turn things around for my life? I came back from McDonald's and did my shot. Maybe just to get high. Maybe to forget about the thoughts the geography outside had stuck in my head.  

The next few days were more of the same. The night before we were to check out we inventoried our funding. $160 combined. We had done almost $1,200 worth of drugs between the 2 if us in one week. Deep down I was worried. Andy was too. He did not say it but I could tell. We Had nowhere to go. Nowhere to stay and at our current rate we'd be out if money by the end of the following day. 

We decided to have Andy's mom pick us up and take us to his parents house so we could get some sleeping bags as we had no idea where we would be going in the following days. It was pretty unnerving being in the same car as the person we had just robbed a week before. We told Andy's mom we were going to be staying with some friends and she bought it after lecturing Andy about getting his shit together. 

We left Andy's parents house on foot later that evening. To save money we decided to camp out in this undeveloped lot outside of Andy's parents neighborhood where we wouldn't be bothered. I remember talking to Andy about how much we both hated panhandling. We hashed over ideas all night about how we were going to make money going forward. 

The next few weeks were rough. We had ran out of money and were getting by on money Andy's mom gave him, Kenny hooking us up and a little panhandling here and there though neither of us wanted to commit to that. Was the party over? Had we settled in to being homeless bums? 

By this time I had thought about hooking back up with Rook and Becca back on Trop. Would they be mad? Were they even there? I didn't want to abandon Andy. We had become good friends.

Around noon we were waiting for Pete at the In-n-Out. Andy kept saying he was going to go to WestCare, the local free detox program, soon because he couldn't keep up with the grind of hustling money and panhandling. I told him he was full of shit. 

Pete showed up and when Andy got back he made a b-line for the In-n-Out bathroom. Before I got inside he had already cooked up our shots. His was really dark whereas mine was much lighter. I called Andy on it.

"Did you cut my shot?" I asked

"What? No dude of course not." Andy said

"Then switch with me." I said

"No dude I promise they are the same." Andy said

He attempted to put the needle in his arm and I grabbed his wrist.

"I'm not stupid dude! Re-mix them. " I ordered

"Okay okay don't be a bitch." Andy muttered and remixed the shots

When I got my rig back I could tell without question that I had assumed correctly. Andy had attempted to give me a shot that was mostly water and take all the dope for himself. Had this been going on all along? Andy did cook most of the shots and at that moment I had realized I didn't usually watch him. He had been watering down my drugs the whole time. I was sure of it. I felt so stupid. This is what my "friend" had thought would be acceptable. That I wouldn't mind or would not notice. After I did my shot I chose my words carefully.

"How many times have you done that to me?" I asked

"Done what? I've never cut your shot man. Never. " Andy said

The next day I caught Andy red handed. Growing straight water into my syringe mixed with very little dope. I didn't say anything but I did decide to get even. By this point Andy's mom was becoming very distant. Hard to get ahold of. Last time they had spoke she had confronted him about the stamps. Asked him how we paid for the motel room and how we had been getting by the last few weeks. Later that day Andy asked me if I would take the blame. He insisted that me admitting I stole them would not only get him back in the good graces with his family. He assured me his parents would not call the police. I was beside myself. I've done plenty of things for friends in my life but with the evidence I had found and Andy watering down my drugs I wasn't feeling like giving him a leg up. That was the moment I figured out how I was gonna get even. I told Andy I'd think about it and tell him in the morning.

The next morning I got up early and slipped Andy's phone out of his backpack, got his moms number out of his contacts and removed the cell phone battery and tossed it in a cup of water. I grabbed my stuff and slid away to the casino to make a call.

Andy's mom answered and I told her I had something very important to tell her and than I needed to see her right away. 

She arrived in minutes. Maybe she tried to call Andy's phone and it went straight to voicemail so she got worried. 

I told her everything just as it went down. How we waited till they were gone, how I waited as lookout on the side of the house and, most important of all for me, how Andy stole the stamps. 

She was shocked. I could see the mix of emotions on her face.

"I thank you for telling me Chris but why are you telling me this." 

"Can you take me to WestCare?" I asked

If you would like to contribute to my efforts at stopping addiction please visit:

http://gofundme.com/q9vqkg

Together we can make a difference.