Pudd, roaddawgz.org, Mar 24, 2004
I came to San Fran to see a few friends and have a good time. My bro T., his girl S., and myself decided to go to the Rainbow Gathering in Utah . So we left Portland in my friend D.�s car and got pulled over in the middle of the night. The car ended up getting impounded because no one had a license, so we ended up taking the public transit from Cloverdale to San Francisco. When we got to San Fran D. called his family for some money so he could get the car out of impound and go back to Portland.
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Meanwhile T., S., and myself kicked back here in San Fran. I saw some old faces and some new ones; I also found out that I had lost a couple of good friend to dope. I was having fun drinking and smoking pot, and things were going great. Last time I was in San Fran I had a small dope habit but I ended up kicking it on the road in 2002 on my way to New York. From there I figured that I could do a little dope and never do it again. I was wrong. The next thing I know I�m smoking pot, drinking booze, shooting dope, and shooting coke - not giving a shit about anyone or anything. Just living my life like a rock star without any money.
T. told me that I was getting really bad. After three months of this, I decided to kick. The bad thing was I was lying to my friends and myself. My bro J. and his girl came down from Portland. J. asked me if I wanted to get some dope. Since T. was hanging out with us, I told him that I had kicked, but 20 minutes later we went and scored. While we were scoring J. asked why I had lied about kicking dope. I told him that I didn�t want T. knowing that I was strung out.
T. and I were talking about leaving town. I was supposed to sell my Food Stamps so we had money on the road, but instead I bought dope and coke. T. asked about that money. I told him that I fucked it off on dope. He just about killed me. The next day T. told me that he was going to ditch me and leave for Portland, so he could get away from the madness in San Fran. At this point I stopped and asked myself, �What the fuck am I supposed to do now?� I got ditched by my roaddog and best friend.
While this was going on J. and his girl were on the verge of breaking up because of a dumbass who was moving in on J.�s action, while they were still going out. After about a week of really hard drinking and shooting dope, they broke up. J. and I decided to clean up and go traveling, Just at the toughest part of kicking T. came back. That helped out a lot because having my bro back was the best support I ever had. T. started telling me about his trip. He also told me that he was really happy to see that I was clean. When T. went to Portland he went with this girl E. and her dog. We were talking about going to New Orleans for Halloween. So T. and I went and got on G.A. so we would have money while we were on the road. We left about two weeks later. I was staying as clean as I could, but the bad thing is that humans are creatures of habit, which basically means that I never stopped. I guess that�s what William S. Burrows meant when he wrote in his book �Junkie�: �Once a junkie always a junkie.�
So T., E., her dog, and I left for New Orleans. J. decided that he was going to visit his family . The first few days were great. We were drinking and having a good old time, but when the booze ran out I realized, �Fuck, I�m dope sick!!!� I thought I had it under control. I only wished I did. I couldn�t eat and if I tried I would just puke it right back up. I couldn�t sleep and when I did it wasn�t for long. In the morning I would have a hard time getting out of bed. So I just waited it out. What was I to do? Whine, piss and moan about it? No, we were on the road, and I wasn�t about to ruin the trip for everyone.
Anyway, it took us a whole week to get to Carson City, Nevada. That�s right, a whole week, a week of hell. We ended up spending a day in Berkley; we got a space bag and this girl gave us some mushrooms, then E. fucked up her ankle while we were drinking. The next day we got a ride to Richmond. We bought more wine, but by that time I wanted to turn back, wouldn�t you? It took two days to get somewhere by hitchhiking that I could have gotten to in 30 minutes on the BART.
We eventually we got a ride to Sacramento. We spent three days there. Yes, three days of hell. The first day we walked half of Sac, from on-ramp to on-ramp, until there were no more in that part of town we hadn�t already tried to hitch from. We then proceeded to walk up a hill to some railroad tracks that followed the freeway. We walked for about an hour and came upon a river that we had to cross - the only way across was a train bridge. T. had to carry the dog across, since E. was limping and scared shitless that she was going to fall through. About five minutes after we crossed the bridge a train passed us. T. and I knew that we could have hopped on but the dog is a big pussy and is scared of big load things. We walked for about another hour and came up to another on-ramp on the out-skirts of Sac where there were cold gray office buildings where we found a spot to sleep. We sat there for a horrible day. Some people told us that they we only going a short distance. Others brought us food. Then this guy and his son that were delivering phone books rolled by; he told us he was only going a short distance, but we didn�t care - we just wanted out of Sacramento. We got to the next on-ramp and decided to fly a sign to make some money because we were just sitting there anyway, and this lady brought us a 12- pack of soda, sandwich stuff, chips, and dog food. We then walked for awhile and stopped to eat and took a break.
T. started to talk about his traveling partner, a G.I. Joe named Storm Shadow that he had bought himself for his birthday a few years ago. He was showing it to us and he ended up spacing it off, and the next thing we knew Storm Shadow was in the storm drain next to us. T. and I tried everything we could to save him. We tried to lift the grate, we tried to loop a string around him, but there was no hope. T. was very pissed off, but eventually faced the fact the fact that he lost his traveling partner in Sacramento, and vowed to never to return there again. We ended up walking another hour or so until dusk; a sheriff drove by us a few times, and the last time he drove by he told us if he saw us again he was going to take us all to jail. The problem with that is finding a good spot along the side of the road in Sac is unlikely � any decent places to sleep are few and far between. We eventually found a spot, and T. went to go buy beer. He came back shit faced, with a 12 pack and bottle of Mad Dog, The next morning we bought a couple more beers and got a ride to Roseville. While in Roseville we were sitting on the side of the highway drinking more beer. Within an hour the cops came. They asked us , �Who was exposing themselves?� We told them we weren�t. We thought that maybe someone might have seen one of us pissing in the bushes. We got our names ran and they told us that we needed to get out of town. They wouldn�t even let use try to get a ride. The cops told us we had to walk to the next town. The next town was Rocklin; we tried to walk straight through to the highway. We stopped for not even five minutes, and a cop rolls up on us. Luckily the officer was really nice, he was even was joking with us. T. commended him on his boots, and asked him what type of boots he was wearing. The officer said �I don�t know, let me check.� The next thing we knew he was hopping around on one foot trying to see what the brand name was on the bottom of his boot. After the cop ran our names, he gave us directions to get to the highway. We left and went to bed. When we woke the next morning we went to the on- ramp and sat all day in the sun; people gave us money but we could not get a ride. Finally E. got fed up and called a friend of hers in Carson City for a ride. Her friend said sure. Four hours later we were in Carson City. E.�s friend even paid for a motel room for us. By the time we got to Carson City I wasn�t dope sick any more.
There is nothing to do in Carson City. We were sitting in the city park, and this guy drove up and ask T. and I if we were looking for work, we said yes . He said he had to go to Home Depot and that he�d be back. Twenty minutes later he took us to the job site and told us that we had to border the lawn with bricks and spread gravel around the rest of the yard. We each made $20 for about 2 hours of work. We got some food and beer. The next day T. paid for E.�s I.D., then we hung out with E.�s friends some more. We went out to this river out by the prison. We drank some beer and Jagermiester. We passed out. For anyone who hasn�t slept in the Nevada desert, it�s so peaceful, listening to the crickets sing, and desert creatures crawling around in the sagebrush, and maybe a coyote howling in the night.
When we woke up we caught a ride to town. We discussed leaving; T. and I wanted to continue east, but E. had a valid opinion about hitchhiking in the desert in the middle of September. September in Nevada is really hot during the day and freezing during the night. We also thought about hopping a train but E.�s dog doesn�t do well with loud noises or big objects. So the next morning we left. We made it back in one day. I don�t understand why it only took us one day, maybe we were meant to stay in S.F. all along. Maybe that�s why it took seven days to get there.
The cool thing was that I was clean, I was just smoking pot and drinking. So when I got back I found out J. never left. A few days later T. decided San Francisco was not where he wanted to be, and he left for Portland. I got another GA check. When I went to cash my check I�d always take my friend S., who I�d have to bribe with coffee. After that we would go score a couple of speedballs. That night I bought a bottle of Wild Turkey. I told J. to meet me at UFO so I could get more money. I had an appointment to get test results for Hep C. I was so high that night; all I remember was when the counselor told me I was positive for Hep C, I didn�t know how to react. I just sat there dumbfounded, not knowing what to say or do. The little curtained area just went silent. When I look back on it, I realized where I got Hep C. We would have to go back to when I first went to Portland. All the people I met there, who are my friends now, told me that I should meet this one girl. I never got to meet her until I left Portland and came to S.F. I had been in SF for three months and she came into town. We hung out a little bit. One night she didn�t have any blankets, and I offered to share mine. She told me that if I touched her during the night she�d kill me. I slept two feet away from her, with hardly any blankets, and froze my ass off. About a week or two later she left town.
Five months or so after that, while I was traveling to New York, I went to the Rainbow Gathering in Michigan. I saw her again in Madison, Wisconsin and we hung out while she was there. She was pregnant at the time, and I was trying to get with her. That didn�t work out. She left for the Gathering, but I didn�t see her there. Ten months later she came to Salt Lake City with T. At that time I was working for some friends watching their kids. T. and her would come over to my place to hang out every so often, and we would also go hang out where they were staying. One night I went to their place and got really drunk, and she went next door for some reason. When she came back she had a bag of coke. She asked if I wanted any; I said sure. She told me that she only had one needle, that it was dirty, and that she had Hep C, but I still used it anyway. I told her that I didn�t care. I basically thought there was no way I could get it. I was wrong. Just think, one bad choice, and now I have a liver disease.
A few days after I got my results it hit me. I could possibly die from this. My counselor told me I should stop doing speed, coke, and drinking, but he said nothing about heroin. Even though, I was still drinking and doing speed. A few weeks after I got my results J., E., and myself were at our camp drinking beer first thing in the morning, nothing unusual, then when I had to go to the bathroom I ran into D. and her friend. They asked if I wanted to drink a beer and I said sure. So we went to this spot that I knew and started drinking. They started talking about J. and how they thought he was cute, and how much they wanted him. Before I go any farther let me give you some background on these two girls. When I first met D. I was at a buddy�s house and we had just scored some dope. We went back to my bro�s house and he invited her in. We were all chit-chatting and I introduced myself and she did also. So while we were talking I was cooking up my shot of dope. I decided to ask how old she was. I mean, why not? She was cute, but acted a little young. When she answered, I was about to do my shot. She said she was 15 years old, and for some reason I just turned around and did my shot.
Now, about the other girl, I really didn�t know her. I met her when we were drinking beer, but I had seen her around; she was cute, too. This may be wrong to say but she has some good-sized breasts for only being 15 years old. So, when the beer was gone I went and told J. what they said. Well, with J. being 17 years old, he wanted to find out if what I said was true. So J. and I found the girls. J. was talking to them and I was drinking a beer minding my own business when J. told me that one of the girls had asked if he wanted to do any speed. J. said, �Yeah,� and asked if I could come along. So J. and I went to our camp � and they know we use needles. They asked us how much we wanted. We told them we�d be fine with whatever she gave us. She gave us a good amount; they snorted lines and we did shots. This happened five or six times, sometimes it was just J., the other girl, and me. After awhile, she stopped hanging out with us. The next time I saw her was Halloween. That was a strange night. It all started when one of my friends threw a $20 bill at me and another one at my friend. My friend asked what I was going to buy with the money he gave me. Heroin, I told him, and he asked if my guy had any coke. I said yeah, so he gave me and my friend a total of $70 � that�s enough for two black and two white - $30 for the black and $40 for the white. My bro said to try and get three whites but we didn�t have enough money. I left to go score and when I got back we left Haight Street, and the next thing I know, my bro is trying to shoot his coke in the middle of the sidewalk. He was so drunk we had to drag him to Panhandle Park, where we ran into my friends C., D., another girl, and M., this girl that C. was hanging out with. I asked one of the girls, who we�d fixed with before, if she had any speed. She said no. So my bro said, �What, you want to do some speed?� and made a phone call. His guy was there in 15 minutes. He picked up about two grams while he was talking his guy. Everyone was really drunk. Two of the girls were kissing and C. was hitting on all the other girls. My bro was sitting there asking a junkie the dumbest question in the world. �Who wants to get high?� He gave me mine first and I tried it out. It was good. The next thing I knew I was rushing and M. came up tome and asked me to kiss her. I thought it was a trick, and I asked C. if he was going out with her. He said no. Then she asked if she could kiss me. I asked her if she was C.�s girlfriend and she said she �wasn�t his girlfriend� and �C. doesn�t care� and �sorry� a lot. Then when all the speed was through they disappeared. We decided to leave the Panhandle, and go wander around town.
The next few days were odd. J. found a girl named R. and they hooked up. About two weeks later J. decided to go to England to visit his dad, and for some reason R. stole J.�s money for his bus ticket. I haven�t seen her since. One of E.�s friends gave J. the money he needed to get to his grandma�s so he could go see his dad. So now J. left. I started to hang out with my friend S. S. from Detroit. I thought I had a bad habit. S. would do about two or three grams a day. I had only been doing one or one and a half grams a day. We were selling pot and buying dope, but not paying they guys we got the pot from. People wouldn�t give us pot up front because we owed money. One day S. came up with a plan. He had just got out of jail and he was planning to go home and transfer his probation to Detroit, but before he left he decided to rob the dope man. So S. and I came up with a plan. We decided that I would wait by the hospital and he would call him and wait where the guy said. S. had a very big blunt object hidden in his coat. Twenty minutes later he pulls up in a taxi and says, �Get in.� I then tell the driver to take us to the nearest hotel. We got to the hotel and rented a room. We got in the room and I see S. emptying his pockets. I saw 14 1/2 grams of heroin, 7 1/4 grams of speed, and 6 1/2 grams of coke. So S. proceeded to tell me what he had done. He was waiting on the corner, and the dopeman pulled up, and S. got in the car. S. pulled out the blunt object and told the dopeman to give him the dope and the money. S. said that he waited a bit and then hit him in the head twice, then the dopeman smacked S. upside the head with a hammer. S. said that he grabbed the hammer from the dopeman. So now S. got both weapons � the club and the hammer. Then he threatened to kill the dopeman. The dopman then took the dope and threw it on the seat he was sitting in and threw down the car keys. S. then got into a cab and met me at the hospital. While he was telling me this story, I was mixing up a bag of coke and a bag of heroin. Did that up and mixed speedball after speedball. S. then said he had to sign the paperwork to transfer his probation over in Oakland. I went and bought some mushrooms and waited for S. to come back. When he came back we did another speedball and then ate the mushrooms I bought. We were on our way to the bus station and we got into an argument. He went to Detroit and I stayed here. Now all my friends had left. I was hoping that T. would come back for my birthday.
So now I�m really strung out and I�m doing two to two and a half grams a day. Life is really complicated and I want to go home. I called my grandpa, he couldn�t help. My parents couldn�t help, and my birthday was coming up. I had started to hang out with K., C., .L. , and S.. S. Left for awhile and brought back her friend B.. S. and B. would help me when I was sick. C. and K. would do the same. C. and K. made my birthday rock � first C. got some great dope which K. and I split in half. We got well and high, then I met these kids who had come into town two or three days before and they drank a bottle of Wild Turkey with me and gave me a Misfits t-shirt. The rest of the day is really blurry until the evening came along. I shared a bag of mushrooms that E. gave me with this girl from out of town, and about 20 minutes later C. and K. came back from scoring and we went to the space toilet to do a speedball. I ended up missing part of it and my hand went numb and I started freaking out, because the mushrooms were kicking in. Then we decided to walk around and we got really drunk. When I woke up the next day I had forgotten to save a wake-up. You would think that when you have a habit you would save something out of three grams of dope that was done the day before.
Christmas was really tough to get through. I was missing all my friends that had gone away, and making money was getting harder and harder still. J. has just gotten back and we�re going to Portland, then to Salt Lake City to see T. From there it�s still up in the air. I am trying to kick so I can go on the road. I know I will still use but I am determined not to get strung out again.
I am now playing with the cards that were dealt to me by the dealer of life and so far I got a damn good hand.
|Jun 23, 2004
That story's epic man...Do you keep a journal of your travels..? I'd like to read more...see ya in Portland! You're a rockstar pudd!
|Apr 10, 2004
|hey pudd, i love you!!!!!! why are you not here in portland yet??? i ran into "J" a week ago or so and he said you are still in SF. come on, its finally nice up here and i'm stuck here for gawd knows how long. i miss you!!!!!
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