Thursday, March 11, 2010


The economy has hurt us all and some competitors have reached the point where they are selling dope to try and survive. I will will go bankrupt and pay for the rest of my life before I ever do that. When I say dope, I mean meth. If I keep this blog up, I will undoubtedly bitch about this drug over and over.

I had read some stupid statistic that meth had killed about 300 people the year before. Bullshit! They say about 450,000 people die a year because of cigarette smoke. I don't deny that number as both my parents died from smoking. (and it is what I expect to die from) One at 62 and one at 79. Yet in 7 years I have seen at least 6 people in their 30's or 40's die from meth. I am sure there are more. But these are the people I know for sure.

Anita is giving me a ride home, and will most likely spend the night. We are just a block away from my house and I am getting happier by the second. Then her phone rings.

She utters a few uhh huhhss and passes my street without even looking at me. She starts to speed up and I have no clue what is going on.

"They called an ambulance for Simpson"

"What's going on?"

"I don't know. That was his roomate. And someone needs to get his son"


We finally find the exact address of the apartment complex and run up to the door. I knew this area from when I was younger and delivered pizzas. That was maybe a decade or so ago. And it didn't look like they did much maintenance since the last time I had been here. As we ran up, even though it was in the middle of the night, I noticed the pool was greener than grass in a spring meadow.

I barely noticed the cop standing outside when we got to the door. Looking in we can see him inside watching the paramedics do full CPR on him.

I don't really want to watch so I start talking to the cop as I am drinking buddies with most of his superiors. I let him know we are only there for the kid. He is somewhat greatful. He can't release him to us, but he would rather have someone else take care of the kid than the roomate. Just about this time, I see the "roomate" come out of his room followed by the skank that he was fucking. It just so happens, the roomate picked her up at my bar an hour or two earlier.

He wants nothing to do with the kid. He went through Simpson's phone and dialed the first number he reconized. That was Anita...

It's about this time that the first paramedic/firefighter walks out and being the callous ass that I am, I ask him if there is any chance. I guess he saw me talking to the cop and gave me a real answer. Smiling, he said "we got him back, but he is circling the drain".

Anita just looked at me because she didn't understand. I had to explain that he was alive but would probably be dead by the time he got to the hospital. He ultimately made it a few more hours before he died.

He was neither the first or last meth user I saw die. Just the one that fucked me up the most watching his 7 year old son, being kept away from watching his father die.

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