A Million Little Goldfish Crackers (my fake druggie memoir)
DT Alvarez
We were on the road for less than 3 hours and I was already out of Dilaudid. My Percodan stash was in the overnight bag which was in the back of the truck Chris was driving, or should I say swerving ahead of us. My constipation was not getting any better by sitting in a smelly rental van with only 2 inches of clearance to move around and fidget from the shakes.
Ahh, the shakes. I almost forgot what it felt like. It would be 2 more hours before we would reach a quality dealer in East St. Louis & I certainly didn’t think I could last that long before the vomiting started. I should have listened to Crystal Beth, my dealer in Uptown, when she offered me a discount if I unloaded some Special K with some frats just outside of Memphis. I told her I didn’t deal with Redneck Hippie junkies, Hippie Redneck junkies, or Junkie Hippie rednecks. She laughed & got a real kick out of that.
She’s probably laughing right now.
We were on the road for less than 3 hours and I was already out of Dilaudid. My Percodan stash was in the overnight bag which was in the back of the truck Chris was driving, or should I say swerving ahead of us. My constipation was not getting any better by sitting in a smelly rental van with only 2 inches of clearance to move around and fidget from the shakes.
Ahh, the shakes. I almost forgot what it felt like. It would be 2 more hours before we would reach a quality dealer in East St. Louis & I certainly didn’t think I could last that long before the vomiting started. I should have listened to Crystal Beth, my dealer in Uptown, when she offered me a discount if I unloaded some Special K with some frats just outside of Memphis. I told her I didn’t deal with Redneck Hippie junkies, Hippie Redneck junkies, or Junkie Hippie rednecks. She laughed & got a real kick out of that.
She’s probably laughing right now.
posted by D at 1:02 PM
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