August 1st...I'm back and will finish this one...
Lost in a hole. Thankfully most of you are as well. This is not part three but a random Act.
Looking back it means a lot. Same as I shoulda stuck with Gina Blandina or I shoulda put my efforts into baseball instead of drinking, basketball and banging the sistas.
I'm 43 and still lost; thankfully I can look back with some clearity that I can't find even today.
Let's go back to 1995.
I had a good job at UPS, I had a good roommate, and my bills were at most $500 a month. My problem was a six-year hidden heroin habit.
I thought I was all slick that nobody knew. I'd been evicted from two or three apartments already, but only due to bad circumstances. Family and friends had been picking up my pieces although I was oblivious to it.
My heroin addiction was hard core. I was getting my $500 a week check from UPS in Earth City at 1:00pm, cashing it at a check cashing place since no banks would have me, then driving to the North Side to cop. I'd cop at Popeye's Fried Chicken or down a deserted alley way of Redd Foxx Blvd wherever it was they told me.
See back in those days, I'd hit a pager number from a pay phone, and of course the pay phones always had a number and they always called back. No matter where I was and for the most part no matter the time of day the phone would ring back.
"Yo it's Hip," was always my answer as somehow I was dubbed Hippy due to what was my nearly fashionable mullet.
"Where you at" was always the answer.
This time it was a Gas Station just off I-70, straight across from Lambert Field where I could watch planes land at what was once a busy airport.
"Get you some bread, get their in 20," was the answer.
Thankfully it was close and I wasn't going to the South Side or the Central West End.
Get bread meant, off of Broadway, lined up on the side or road, parellel to the Wonder Bread plant in what was then neutral North City. It will be a fun ride since their will be at least ten other cars waiting in line to what will be a run into the Calvary Cementery. The hope was I'd get early in the parade and the hope was I or any one else in the parade wouldn't get jacked.
For the uniformed here is the routine...you would page the man, they'd give you a twenty (location), a time to be there and that meant get ready. Im most cases you'd be twentied with anywhere from four to ten vehicles, which then of course meant an unreal seen.
You'd wait at the "twenty" usually with two to four people in every car and what was always the case was a delay. They'd tell you fifteen minutes it would usually wind up forty minutes to an hours.
So all of us in wait would get out and chit chat once the time became too long. For those of you who had to wait for a dealer, particulary, one how sold opiates, and for those that were sick, the wait is undesribable.
Anway, here come "Slim" driving down the way, and as something you've never seen out of a movie, everyone stops "wraping" and jumps into the car. This shit is no joke, one car drives down the street and suddenly ten cars comes off the side chasing the lead car.
BTW, even though we are all looking to cop some Heroin, there is still an order amongst thieves and that means, just like in poker, we all want to be in first place.
Slims car may run a few stoplights, dart down some back alleys, and for this run he does both eventually running down an abandon street in Calvary Cementary.
The lead car slides to a halt, ten cars, none with any regard to safety, only their own fix in mind, have all been on the tail of on another.
Today I ruled, I was number two and worked hard to push this dyke Cynthia out of the way as we finally crossed the final alley and made out way into the cemetary.
Once the lead car stops three large black men caring baggies get out. Slim, the driver gets out with his AK 47.
What now happens is organized chaos. The first to the dealers give their money, get their goods, and peel out trying to avoid the chaso that has ensued. The rest line up to get their stuff.
As being the lead car, me, JT, and Drunken Pete got our goods, now the question is how far do we go to do our fix. Our outfits, (Everything required to shoot the heroin) is hidden in the car but do we chance stopping in the cementary or do we risk traveling all the way to somewhere, always with the chance we'd get pulled ovdr before we'd shoot the dope...