| My Weekend with the Coke Head Have you ever felt like you don't fully realize where you are or what time of day it is? Then at one split second moment, you come to; only to go back to your comatose state? It's like you are continuously in some sort of daze brought on by drug or chemical dependency. Don't get me wrong, I don't use drugs and I don't condone them either, but I do find them quite fascinating. I often imagine what it would be like to go on a three-day coke binge. Waking up in some back alley somewhere, covered in last week's newspaper as a blanket. Not knowing where I had been or what I had been doing in the last 72 hours, but completely satisfied that I had a great time. |
| I once hung out with a guy who did cocaine while we were playing spades. I watched him curiously as he snorted the fine white granules of powder through his nose, then I threw down my ace of spades and won the book. I can't help to say that I was amazed by his heightened reflexes and speed, his ability to speak 1000 words per minute, and his constant chemical smile. Then I found out that cocaine is basically adrenaline in easy to snort powder form! He asked if I would like to try some and I politely said no, but asked what it was like. He looked right at me with those big black circles under his eyes and said, "Well Brad, when I use this (cocaine) it becomes my world and everyone else just lives in it." Well said you jittery coke fiend, now throw down your card so we can finish this game. |
| While watching him, I noticed that it was not "glamorous". Movies like "Gia" (a super model with a concaine addiction) and "Blow" (you must see it) show beautiful people snorting, conversing, acting like some pact of secluded intelligency (open to only those that possess "the habit"). I've always pictured sniffing coke to be reserved for the rich and famous or the Robert Downey Jr. types. Serving it at dinnertime in a huge, sparkling, diamond gravy bowl. "Would you like more "8 ball" with your mash potatoes hun?" "Oh yes please!" No it was not glamorous, but then again, that could have been because he wasn't sniffing it off of a tiny silver crack spoon or with a $100 bill, but off of a chipped and dirty hotel key card that he probably found outside. One neat aspect of doing coke (according to the guy I hung out with) was that you no longer need sleep. He proved that by staying awake for the three days that that we were there. He was a late night infomercial freak, a 6 AM waffle house breakfast conesuire, and a mid-day Oprah psycho rolled into one. I loved that guy, from his sweaty skin, to his jittery hands, and all the way down to his slurred rapid-fire speech. If I could pick a dope head to be like, I'd be like him. |
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| (My cousin Jacob and his "Doobie Snacks") |