Did I tell you I used to take drugs? Well, it's not anything unusual, I know, and anyway, it's been some years since I quit them. I didn't really have a choice, you see I was planning to start taking hormones, and I knew the emotional mayhem would be enough to drive me mad even without the help of the drugs. So, I decided to quit. As is universally accepted, there always has to be a "last time", with drugs, and for some reason it comes after you decided to quit... So, I rounded up some friends, and we all put our stuff together to mix it and share the result. So we did. I remember that much.

A couple days later, I was again stoned, as you would expect me to, and I was just taking a stroll with a friend, when a guy I 've never seen before, comes up to me and says hi. Well, you know, I 'm a nice person, so I say hi too, but I 'm getting the speeds , because the guy doesn't look at all familiar, what's more, he 's not at all the kinda guy that should act like he's expecting me to remember him, as he does. I mean, he's dressed like a maths' teacher or something, and he has a smug grin on his face, like he knows something I don't. So, I ask him, "where do I know you from"? It's still Spring 1997, I haven't yet started going out en femme, so there's no way it's someone I shagged and forgot all about. Anyway he's ugly. He says to me, "don't you remember me from Friday?". I don't, but Friday was the day I was supposed to have quit drugs- the day (night actually, but anyway) I was so stoned, I know I 'm missing something, I have this big black hole in my memory, but, since I don't remember what I don't remember, I tell him "ah, yeah, Friday, right, hehe, how are you?" like real cool, you know? He doesn't fall for it. "You don't remember what you were doing on Friday, right? You were at the police station. I know cause I was there too, now do you remember me?"

Shit.

Oh, shit, it's starting to come back to me. I suddendly remember this guys' face, and what's worse, I remember I really want to forget it. I ask, "uh... why was I there...?" And he says, "we caught you sitting on a patrol car, tying your bootlaces."

Shiiiii-iiiet...!

Now, it all comes back to me... I remember walking the streets of Corfu, I can't see the other guys, and I 'm talking to shadows, I don't even know if they 're real or not but I 'm talking to them anyway. Then, I notice a taxi, parked by the sidewalk. I hate cab drivers. I hate their miserable yellow guts. I can see a little group of them, a few feet away, and I 'm sure they 're talking about me. Motherfuckers. I 'm gonna show them.

I walk to the cab, I climb on it and lean back on the windshield. Casually, you know. I start undoing my bootlaces, and tuck my socks in nicely, I even take a good look inside, in case I 've stashed something there and forgot it.

Fade out.

Now I 'm in the middle of the cab driver group and boy are they pissed off! One of them is yelling something like... "what the fuck do you think you 're doing sprawled on a police car like that?". A police car. Ah. This is Corfu. Cabs are blue-white. Blue -white. Cabs ,police cars. Blue ,white. Yes, shit. It takes a while to sink in, but I have a sudden flash of sobriety. These are no cab drivers. They 're cops.

Fade out.

"What are you on"? The fat guy yells. He seems really mad. Come on, I didn't really do anything, I mean... oh, fuck them, cops, cab drivers, what's the difference, I 'm gonna give them some shit anyway, just like, you know, on principle. So I say "Weeeeell. Let me see now ... " I start counting on my fingers "Hypnosedon, Peracon, Artane, Tavor, Akinetton, Dovavexil, Jactus, Haloperidine..." blah blah blah. I 'm giving them a regular prescription... and that pisses them even more. One slaps me across the face. Another asks again... "Who gave you these?" I give them a name, and this time they all start smirking like fucking hyenas. "Stathis who?". I give them a last name and I find myself lookin at a bunch of really happy little copers. They 're practically beaming, the eager bastards. "Who's he?" "Come on, spit it out, you 're gonna tell us everything!". I say "it's me" and I take out my ID card, flash it all around, like, hey, it really is me, would you look at that picture, haha. They stop laughing and start swearing and hitting me.

Fade out.

Now, I 'm back in the middle of my interrupted stroll with my pal and the cop, looking at me, grinning. I cast a panicked glance towards my friend. His face is blank and flushed, I can't tell if he wants to laugh or start screaming at me. I don't know if I wanna laugh or start crying, either. The cop guy is still looking smug, he can probably see we 're both under the influence, but then again, always when I think it is obvious it turns out nobody's noticing. I scratch my cheek, cause the speed really makes my sideburns itch. I say "uh... yeah, right... now I remember... I remember you, how are you...?". "Look, he says, you 're just a student here, OK?" ...because I was studing at the University in Corfu... "so, we don't care if you do shit like that, but keep it indoors next time, OK?". I can move my head up and down at that, so I do. I think it's over but he is a cop, after all. He goes on: "I 'm your friend, you can trust me... you can tell me everything you do...". Really, he's really giving me that old shit. I can't believe the guy, but I 'm so stoned, and shocked by Friday night's recollection, that I do it spontaneously: I put my arm around his shoulders, and tell him "my pal, yeah". I 've never had a cop pal before. Looks like I 'm not getting one this time either, cause he jerks my hand off, and makes a face, then mumbles something indignant and walks away...

I kept getting recollections from that Friday, as well as accounts of the stupid things I did from others as well, not cops, thank god, just friends. That's how I found out the way I lost the other guys, I allegedly shireked something like "Shit I lost it" and ran down the road looking for a pill I had dropped someplace... Cheeeeesus! The problem is, I can't remember what the cops were telling me at the station, but I 'm positive it was something along the lines of "we 're your friends, tell us who your friends are" and I can only hope I told them something like "you 're my friends, friends", but I remember feeling so fucking depressed, almost catatonic, I 'm afraid I might have started blathering about the other guys, how they were the best friends I ever had and how I loved being there in Corfu with them... It scares me, really scares me... ... and so I quit drugs.

And that is a true story... .

tickle me to get back to the previous page