I'm so fucking sorry
***When I was a young man, about twenty-one or twenty-two, I lived in Green Springs, Ohio. I lived with my highschool sweetheart, and we were pretty happy. Green Springs is a cool little town to lay low. If you don't do anything too stupid, the law will leave you alone and if you mind your own business, everyone else will mind theirs. I sold a lot of grass at that time in my life, and worked at the drive thru right next to my apartment. I made decent money and was not on light supply of new customers and friends. When I wasn't working, I would read or play music. At that point in my life I was practicing music for about six hours a day.
I was obsessed with writers like Selby Jr, Jim Carrol, William S Burrows and Irvine Welsh. I glorified and worshipped their madness and their addictions.
Also at this time in my life I was really starting to nurture my own opiate addiction. And when I say nurture, that is exactly what I mean.
I had it in my mind that the only way to create great art was to suffer tremendous pain, and who better to inflect pain on me, than myself? What kind of fucked up mentality is that? Lol. Lol. Lol.
So, anyway, I had met a customer named Carrol. He drove a UPS truck and made good money. He was also a heroin addict and on methadone to try and kick the dog food. Carrol was a cool guy ,real chill and we got along great.
I also purchased my first ever wafer of methadone. And was higher than giraffe pussy, as the kids say.
Carrol had told me alot of stories. Some funny, some sad and one has stuck with me for over twenty years. It is a tragedy, and it unfolded as such.***
He told me:
"You know Joey, Fremont, during the crack epidemic was absolute madness. I mean, it was unbelievable. People were dying left and right. People were losing their jobs, their homes, families, their fucking fortunes man!! I heard about a guy in Fremont that spent seventy-five thousand in ONE FUCKING NIGHT. One night Joey, one fucking night, one night!! Fuck man!!!
Imagine that...blows my mind.
No one was immune to it. It was everywhere, schools, churches, homes, crack houses, the street, the bars, the factories and in the fields and farms. It was bad and I was fortunate to get out, I had friend that wasn't.
My buddy Selby, was the coolest, most reliable, fun and loving man I've ever known....
We spent our last year together getting high on crack for about a year straight. No lie. A fucking year without stopping.
We both worked at UPS and his wife had some fancy, high paying job in management for Whirlpool. Money was no issue.
The crack flowed freely.
The crack controlled everything.
The crack tastes like cinnamon, kittens and happiness.
However, Joey, all good things come to an end, all good things Joey, don't fucking forget that.
Eventually, the crack became a demon, a dark god that consumes your soul. And it got ugly fast. I lost my job first, however Selby lost his wife.
She died in an accident at work.
They told Selby there would be a really nice settlement. He told them to go fuck themselves and threw a hammer he had in the bed of his truck at them. Hahaha, my man Selby....oh, God, one of a kind, fucking finest kind.
He became horribly depressed and dove even deeper into the crack and I was with him every step of the way.
The last night, went like this:
We knew Ty had good shit over by the bridge, it was expensive, but good. We knew we could go to Anthony's Bar and grab something a little cheaper, no where near as good.
We opted for quality.
Selby went to the ATM and pulled out some cash. When it printed out the receipt he looked at and laughed, like hard, like cracking up. Then he just wadded the receipt up and threw it away.
I went and pulled some cash too, and then we went to see Ty.
On the way over I asked Selby why he laughed like that earlier, when he saw his receipt.
"Carrol, my man, my best friend. I'm gonna tell you the truth. That four hundred dollars I pulled is the absolute last of my once decent fortune. Hahaha!! And you know what bro, I don't fucking care, I don't and I don't fucking care about anything any more. And it feels so freeing to just accept this fate, right?"
I said something to him like, "I don't know bro, let's just get this rock and go to club rouge and see if we can land a couple girls."
Selby said, "My man, that is why I love you!!! Yes!!! Fuck yes!!!!"
We went and grabbed and when we got to the strip club we made our way inside.
I'll tell you this Joey, I'll tell ya this, Club Rouge is the most disgusting, sad, it's smelly and has the most unfortunate looking employees. However there was one. Can't even remember what she looked like. Fuck me, I'm old, haha!
Anyway, she leaves with us and we take her to this abandoned crack house on Ohio Ave.
We're all getting high and fucking and getting high and fucking and we repeat this process for about four hours.
The woman gets a ride home, and it's just me and Selby
He says, "What a fucking night, huh? Whoooo!!! Hahaha!!! Shit!!! Ahhh shit fire!! Haha....look at how much more rock we got dude! That's like a quarter for sure! Let's smoke it up!!!"
And we did, for hours until the last rock was smoked. We were both broke. The last dollars had been spent. This was rock bottom, and we both knew it. Inside of some dank crack house, no more drugs, no more money and depression setting in faster than than the terribly fleeting high you get from crack cocaine. This was misery and I was already feeling feindy.
Selby said, "You really are my best friend. I'm so grateful. And that's also why I'm so fucking sorry."
Selby reached behind his back, and into the couch cushion.
He pulled out a snubnose 38.
He put the gun to the side of his head
He looked me dead in the eye and told me one more time
"I'm so fucking sorry."
He pulled the trigger and blew his fucking brains out, right in front of me. Right in front of me. It's definitely the most fucked up, horrible, terrible thing I've ever seen. It haunts my dreams. Sometimes I think I see him in a crowd and he's got that big fucking hole in his head, and he's smiling, he's fucking smiling!! Like what is he smiling about? Is he happier dead? Should I try and find out for myself?
This shit fucked with me for years Joey, for fucking years.
Now bust up that methadone and let's get high."
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2 comments
Jf Alcala
1
I'm so fucking sorry
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