They come and they go....

And sometimes you never see them again.

A friend sent the above link and it was like getting an electric shock

Over the years, the Erie Crackhead has met a lot of different women on the streets.  The reason, and this is said hesitantly, but when in a new town most crackheads seek out where the "stroll" was located. The main reason for that was when you find the girls, you have found dope.

And if you're not careful you may get way more than what you have bargained for...

It's that way in almost every major city I have been through. From New York City to Miami, from Charlotte to Minneapolis/St. Paul, from Pittsburgh to Atlanta and from Buffalo to Dallas along with most every larger city in between.

That would also include Erie, PA.

To say that my interest was strictly to acquire drugs would be dishonest. The sorry fact of the matter is that once crack was found and puffed up the way that I consume it, further contact with those girls was mostly for company. The mind might be willing, but that shit works better than salt peter.

Anyways, over the years more than a few of these women have stopped by my place.

They would stop by at weird hours to use their drugs in a mostly safe environment  Sometimes they would want to get a shower or change their clothes. Sometimes they needed to change their clothes to dodge someone looking for them.

You would also be surprised at how much a bright red wig can throw you off...

They might occasionally bring or want to get a bite to eat. Occasionally they would rent my room to use with a date.  Sometimes they would stop to treat bruises and cuts they received from a date or a mugger. I have had to get one to a hospital because the injuries were that severe.

Trust me though, I am no saint.

Usually when they stopped they had something for me.  They would always share what they had, whether it was food, drink or crack.  Well, always crack was shared as the house gets the first hit.  That is an unspoken rule all crackheads abide by.

I have gotten to know these women, and a few men who have taken to living this kind of life. Many, but not all, lived on the streets. Many, but not all, came from decent families. Many, but not all, had lives that more than a few of us could call a normal life. Most were intelligent, fairly well read and highly educated.

But not all.

Often when the drugs were gone and there was nothing to do but wait until morning, a storm to pass or for a drug dealer to show up (Always in five minutes) we would talk a bit. Sometimes it was about where we had been.  Talk was often about places we've been or things we had seen. We would talk about accomplishments that didn't seem as important to us anymore.  We sometimes would talk about the families or friends who were now in our past.

The only future we seemed to speak of was when that sumbitch would show with our shit.

But these girls would come and go. Show up at unexpected times, occasionally when their appearance was inconvenient. Knocking on the door at almost any hour of the day, but usually in the wee hours of the morning. Some might be by every day for a short period of time. I usually encouraged those to bounce as I didn't want them to be too comfortable.

More often or not things showed up missing with the more frequent visitors left. Some gave me the feeling that they wanted to move in, and I wasn't having that shit.  I have seen others who have put themselves into that spot and the ending was never pretty.

Others might only come around perhaps once a week or less as they had a number of safe places to post up.  These were the ones who didn't want to wear their welcome out at any one place. They were usually my favorites and were the most generous with their dope. You could also almost predict when so and so might show up at the door.

Crackheads, whatever their situation they are in are not noted for their predictability.

Now it has been mentioned before that they come and they go. Over the course of time though, some just disappeared. Some went to jail. Others were found or found out by family members and sent to rehab. Some found some fool willing to let them move in to the eventual dismay of all parties involved.

Unfortunately, some have indeed ended up dead.

You know what?

Well, you never know.

You never know when the phone is going to ring. That could happen at 3:00 AM just as easily as it could happen at 3:00 PM. It could also happen when you are too busy or broke to do anything about what might be offered or requested during the call. The thing might also ring at time when you are getting ready to make a call for something or someone.

You never know who is going to be on the other side of the line.

While caller ID does take some of the mystery out of that fact, it is occasionally a surprise at who's name may pop up on the screen. Sometimes it's a brand spanking new number not recognized. More often than not if it's a local number at a strange time it can be assumed fairly safely what the call might be about. Out of town or blocked numbers, especially during what many might consider normal business hours are generally ignored.

Unless they repeatedly try calling back several times in a very short period of time. Chances are that it will be someone who either has an offer they think I can't refuse. Another possibility is that they have something that they believe will get them through my door without too much of an argument.

Occasionally someone reaches out by sending a text.  This is becoming more frequent lately, as some I suspect are more comfortable communicating in that fashion.  Some people just don't like talking on the phone anymore and that is now seems to be the way of the world..

This might also be because the texts can be erased quickly or people think that type of communication is "safer."

The thing is that the calls or texts set a spark. The kindling that is in my mind doesn't need mush of a spark to
set a fire raging inside of me. Even if a call or text is ignored, the smoldering starts. Sometimes things heat up quickly and at other times it may not fully ignite for hours or even days.

While it might be nice though to put blame on others for my sometimes unexpected dives down into the rabbit hole, there is only one person to blame. It is no longer possible to say if this one didn't call or that text didn't come through things would have been so much better.

Besides, when I point a finger at someone else, there are three other fingers pointing back at me.