Wednesday, March 31, 2010

My Friend in Dallas

I have mentioned her from time to time because she keeps me awake periodically.

Calls from her come at the weirdest hours. Well, weird from most people's point of view. The calls will normally come in around 2 to 5 A.M. She is either drunk or high. Sometimes she is looking for a dealer's number or other times she just wants to talk for awhile.

She is, like anyone who uses crack including myself, not to be trusted. Again, I fall into that category myself. It must also be mentioned that not all crackheads are thieving, cheating and lying bastards. Actually, when crack is removed from the equation, most smokers are basically decent people.

Like me.

Getting back to my Dallas friend, there are times when I truly fear for this poor person's sanity. I'm happy I don't get high in her apartment anymore. The array of cutlery though out the place was unnerving. She did that to be able to defend herself from the IBI or any other imaginary or real agency that might come crashing through her ceiling. She may have had those knives out to use on whoever was getting high with her as well.

When she calls I ask how many knives she has hidden around the apartment. Her reply is invariably, "Fuck you."

I must have touched a nerve.

The calls many times involve trying to score crack from some extremely dubious characters. So, to feel a bit safer, she puts her phone on speaker while the deal is getting done. Her hope is that if anything bad happens, she'll at least have someone to call 911 or something to rescue her.

I'm live approximately 1400 miles from her home. I hope it never comes to her having to depend on my call to save her life. On the other hand, while this isn't much of a safety net, it's better than nothing at all. To a degree, she must have some trust in me.

Happily, I'm not that crazy yet.

But wait...

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