the only time i ever did heroin
Dark misty early May night in Manhattan. We'd finished shooting our scenes for the sub-indie film and the director gave us each a $20 bill for cab fare.
Me and the female co-star decided that since we were in New York, it would make sense to go buy some street heroin. When in Rome...
A couple trains downtown and a walk into Alphabet City took us to the projects near D and Houston, where a Puerto Rican kid in shorts sold us two ten-dollar bindles he'd been stashing in the white socks which went up to his kneecaps.
Over to an all-night deli and we each took turns snorting it from the bathroom window ledge. As we walked outside, I tasted the sweet Spring air and knew that there would be no more war or disease or ethnic strife. Everything would be fiiiiiiinnnne.
Straight back to D and Houston. Two more ten-bags.
We tossed the powder down our throats this time while walking, ten seconds before a cop car skimmed past the weird white folks strolling in the middle of the night in Rican junktown.
The cops kept going, and we held hands and sang songs and pointed at the pretty rat scurrying across the street and the beautiful barbed wire and the glimmering broken glass.
I was sucked calmly inside the hum of the bus air-conditioner as we headed back uptown and I dropped her off at the fiance's apartment. Walked through Times Square, quietly respecting the neon Jumbotron cathedrals.
Cocooned inside bedroom blanket all alone, I thought about jerking off but decided it would be too much work.
Ten AM the next morning, I hovered over the toilet, throwing up.
.........................
And this is my worst drug experience ever.
