Friday, March 24, 2006


I had my first drink when I was 29 years old and I've never even smoked pot. I have, however, had lots of friends who've dabbled in this and that (some dabbling more than they should and ending up in jail, rehab, or both), so the world of drugs is not entirely unknown to me. Sure, if you wanted to buy some pot, I could tell you where to go or I could introduce you to somebody who would know. If you wanted to score some coke or heroin, however, you’d be shit out of luck with me. I wouldn't even know where to begin.

That is until this morning.

In one of the weirdest experiences I've ever had, a guy tried to sell me some coke... ON THE SUBWAY. I don't know if he had a screw loose, but the dude just strolled up to me and asked, "Hey, wanna score some blow?".

It must have been a joke or something.

He was wearing a suit and carrying a briefcase, so this came as a complete surprise to me. I was expecting to be asked for directions or something since we suit-wearing types tend to look to each other for help at times; drug deals were the furthest thing from my mind. But he posed the question and then opened his free hand, revealing a tiny plastic bag with some white shit in it.

My first thought? "This is really too much to deal with at 7:30 in the morning."

I managed to choke out a "No thanks, man, I'm good" and then began to studiously observe the adverts posted around me; anything to avoid eye contact with this guy. "OK, no problem," he replied, promptly exiting into the next car.

Fucking weird.

Yet strangely balls-y.

The reason I have to believe that this was not a joke is that the guy was pretty twitchy and looked totally out of it (probably due to use of his own product). I mean, hell, he offered a COMPLETE STRANGER an ounce of cocaine ON A FUCKING SUBWAY. You have to be a bit altered to do that kind of wacky shit.

"To be dope man you must qualify. Don't get high on your own supply."

Maybe he was some business man who decided to unload the stuff he wasn't using himself. Maybe he was a full-time dealer looking for new ways to expand his market share. Most puzzling is why he chose to get all True Romance on my ass and offer me Dr. Zhivago? Did I look as if I was really in need of a snazzy morning pick-me-up? "Fuck Starbucks, man! I've got Columbian marching powder. Good for what ails ya!"

Say what?

Even if I had been interested (and brave enough to do business ON A FUCKING TRAIN), this guy was his worst advertisement; as I said, twitchy and washed out. I always get a chuckle out of guys who are too messed up on their own stuff to realize they're ruining their own business. Reminds me of the time I was at a Pink Floyd concert in about 1986. There was a filthy, wrecked-looking guy stumbling around the crowd mumbling, "Doses... doses...". Jesus, man, if it's going to mess YOU up that badly, why the hell would I it?

Then again, maybe mild mind erasure is an excellent selling point for some folks?

Makes me wonder what kind of goodies I might be offered on the way home...

"You tried to sell my shit WHERE?"

In lieu of drugs:

Various - DJ Abstract 8: Black Eye Mix
(thunderous booms and basses)

Various - DJ Abstract 11: The Headcrush Party
(Satan puts this on loop)

Beef Terminal - The Isolationist
(bleak and ready to ruin)

Arvo Part - I Am The True Vine
(brilliant modern classical compositions)

Nat King Cole - The Billy May Sessions
(cool king of croon)


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