Tag Archives: addiction

A Speedy Recovery Part 5 (Final)

4 Nov

Part 1    Part 2     Part 3    Part 4

Sweeping

Months went by and although business was gangbusters, Carl had a lot of questions. First, where was Dustin? Second, how did his business go from almost going under to breaking all previous sales records if basically nothing had changed? He sold his entire stock every single day since the promotional party that Dustin threw together.

One Saturday night, as Carl was sweeping up, Dustin appeared, from what seemed like out of thin air, walking from the kitchen into the dining room.

“Hey” he said, startling Carl half to death.

Carl was at a loss for words. On one hand Dustin had, for lack of a better term, pulled a Dustin. On the other hand, things were going great and quite possibly the promotional party that Dustin had produced may have played a role.

Carl sighed “Hey. Where have you been?” he asked.

“You’re never gonna believe this” Dustin answered.

“Try me”

“Well, let me show you” Dustin said, before vanishing.

Carl demonstrated his shock with a loud “Huh?”

Dustin appeared again. “Crazy isn’t it?”

“What’s going on?”

“I’m dead Carl!”

Carl just fixated on Dustin without blinking or saying a word.

“Well, I owed someone, like, a lot of money. So I decided to sell our stash to pay it off because they were going to kill me! But, the deal went bad and I got “got””

“Oh my…” Carl said, putting his hand to his mouth, “That’s why you disappeared”

“Yeah, but check this out. Apparently, on the other side, where you go when you die, you get to call up a favor. Even a scum bag like me! So, I felt bad, for like, fucking you over, so I asked to help out the shop with my favor”

“I’ll be…” Carl just stared at Dustin, even passing his hand through him.

“I know you said ‘no fuck ups’, but I made it right, didn’t I?”

They talked through the night until Dustin had to go. Carl told of the success of the shop and Dustin told what he was allowed to of the other side. Dustin also told Carl that the shop would only continue to have success if Carl personally ran it. As soon as he stopped or tried passing the shop along, the favor would not work anymore. It was part of the “Rules”. Dustin promised to visit Carl as often as he could and that made Carl very happy.

The End.

A Speedy Recovery Part 4

28 Oct

A Speedy Recovery Part 1

A Speedy Recovery Part 2

A Speedy Recovery Part 3

bucket

Weeks past and business boomed. The store was crowded from the time it opened until the last call. No one had seemed to be the wiser about the special ingredient.

Carl was very conscience about trying the sandwich himself. After all, he had watched the movie Scar-face and rule number one was “don’t get high on your own supply”.

Dustin was good about keeping the supply of product flowing but was a little flakey about actually coming in and working as per the agreement. Carl was okay with that as long as he had his special ingredient.

Carl didn’t worry much when three days passed and Dustin hadn’t shown up. On the fourth day, delivery day, he became rather upset when neither Dustin nor product showed up. In fact he panicked.

With the prior stress of being in the financial doldrums, mixed with the new stress of his illicit activities, he was already having small panic attacks. Now that his special ingredient, the chi of his success, dried up, he was experiencing full blown anxiety.

He needed an escape. He wanted to feel better. He wanted to at least feel different from what he felt currently. He decided to eat a sandwich to see if it would make him feel good. Thousands of local customers couldn’t be wrong, could they?

He sat down at a table with a root beer and thought to himself, here goes nothing. And that was exactly what he felt after downing half of the sub. Nothing. He thought he should eat more but he could only put down another half because he was so full.

He felt no different, except that he was stuffed. He was perplexed. The bread was made this morning. He went to the vat that held the remainder of the secret ingredient. He scraped enough to make a pretty decent sized line and laid it out on the stainless steel prep table.

He cut a third of a straw off and snorted the substance. “What the fuck?!” he yelled aloud, eyes watering. He knew nothing about drugs but was an expert in baked goods. It was nothing more than manioc flour.

“I’m gonna kill Dustin!”

 

To be continued…

 

 

 

A Speedy Recovery Part 3

19 Oct

A Speedy Recovery Part 1

A Speedy Recovery Part 2

sandwich

A few weeks later on a Saturday afternoon, the place was packed.

“It worked! You really pulled it off. How did you get D.J. Cyanide, one of the biggest DJs around to agree to do this?” Carl asked Dustin.

“Well, I’m a fan of his and he’s a fan of a certain product. I just called in a favor” Dustin answered.

“I’ve never seen so many people here before. This is bigger than when 94.1 ZROK did a remote from here 15 years ago!”

“And everyone’s eating sandwiches!” Dustin added, rubbing his hands together in a sinister fashion.

The place remained at capacity until closing time. Dustin and Carl had to practically beg a few stragglers to leave so they could clean up and count the day’s money.

“We did well, Dustin. This is by far the most successful promotion the store has ever done” Carl said as he sorted debit receipts from credit receipts.

“This is nothing, bro. This just gave the public a taste. The real “W” will come when the people are trying to smash down the door to get more”

“Your mouth to God’s ears”

“Ha! God…I’m not sure He’s gonna be a big fan of this endeavor”

The next day Carl saw a crowd in front of the store as he pulled up. It was only 7:00am and the store wouldn’t open for another three and a half hours. He was there to make the day’s bread.

The crowd cheered as Carl stepped out of his car.

“Sandwich man!” a man in the crowd shouted.

“We’re hungry!” another voice shouted.

“Folks, we don’t open until 10:30!” Carl said “I still have to make the bread”

“I’ll take some dough raw!” a voice cried. It was followed with a salvo of “Me too!”

Carl had a sinking suspicion that he may have gotten himself in over his head.

 

A Speedy Recovery Part 2

8 Oct

A Speedy Recovery Part 1

Talking

“Let me get this straight, it’s like speed, but you can eat it?” Carl asked out of morbid curiosity.

“Yes! Not only that, it doesn’t lose its potency at high temperatures. That means it can be baked into foods…like bread!” Dustin answered.

“But it’s gotta taste like shit, right?” Carl probed.

“That’s the beauty, no! Doesn’t change taste or texture. You’d never know it’s in there. Also, the buzz is subtle. You gotta snort it to get really high. But when you eat it, it gets metabolized by the liver and smooths out the buzz” Dustin stated with pride for having knowledge of something.

“Is it addictive?”

“Well, I don’t need it and I’ve been using it for months, but some people catch the hooks”

Carl knew “the hooks” meant chemical dependency; he also knew Dustin was not being completely honest when he said he hadn’t caught them himself. They went on to discuss price, availability of product and Dustin’s possible cut if they were to go through with this. One thing that held Carl back, not morality or ethics, was knowing Dustin was a world class fuck up.

“If we’re gonna to do this we’re gonna start very small and Dustin, look at me, no fuck ups. Especially that mouth of yours. You’re gonna have to keep real quiet about this”

“Scouts honor” Dustin replied, raising his right hand with his index and middle fingers extended.

“No one is even coming in to the shop, how are we going to get people hooked in the first place?” Carl asked.

“Leave that to me. I have some ideas”

“That’s kind of scary but I’ll have to trust you. I don’t know much about this world”

“Well, that’s about the only thing I know about”

“Make the calls, let’s do this” Carl said with a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach.

 

To be continued….

A Speedy Recovery Part 3

 

A Wedge Between Pt. 2

3 Jun

A Wedge Between Pt. I

detective

Amanda had gone to high school with Stodler. She lost her virginity to him. She has never gotten over him. Her sole obsessive purpose in life was to get him back. She enrolled in Brown just to be close to him. Stodler had no idea she was going to attend Brown. For Stodler, Amanda was just a high school fling; he had politely rejected Amanda’s attempts to take their relationship to the next level. Amanda was unrelenting.

When she found out about Isabel, she took the news so poorly that she had to go home for a week to recover. Amanda, though not to the extent of Isabel, was of means as well. She was used to always getting what she wanted. She was set on getting Stodler.

She hired two private investigators. One was to trail Isabel and the other was to delve into her life, past and present. The former was used for masochistic indulgence. She basked in the jealousy of seeing her beloved in intimate situations with another woman. The latter provided her with much needed intel that could destroy the relationship between her obsession and her newly found rival.  Each was worth every penny.

She put together a packet of lewd photos and reports of Isabel and Stodlers’ nightly activities and sent them off to Isabel’s father. Even though she clearly had enough dirt to bury the couple, she continued to dig. She let go the detective who was researching Isabel’s background but kept on with the detective who was trailing the couple and taking photos.

Her thirst for the painful pictures was insatiable. She knew she could call off her dog. She knew it was not only unnecessary at this point, but might actually be doing her harm. But like a true addict she woke up saying to herself, “Yesterday was the last day, today I stop”, only to find herself dialing the detective as if working on divine auto pilot.

As the couple grew closer and happier, Amanda grew angrier and more unwound. She was no longer attending classes. She spent her days poring over the detective’s bounty from the night before. Although she was self-aware enough to feel herself becoming unhinged, she felt powerless to stop it.

A Wedge Between Pt. 3

Can´t Do It Anymore

18 Oct

Rig

“I can´t do this anymore” Pietro sniveled.

“Well, I can” Gustavo said with his eyes sharply fixed on Pietro´s rig.

“I don´t even get high anymore” Pietro said while searching for a vein to inject his first dose of heroin, of the day.

“I do” Gustavo said, but upon further reflection, he realized that was just not true. After a pause he added “What else the fuck we gonna do anyway?”

“You got me there” Pietro all but whispered. He had finally found a vein and was afraid that any extra movement would result in him losing it.

Pietro carefully pierced the skin and maneuvered the needle into the tiny vein. With a heavy thumb he pushed down on the plunger. He awaited the warm comfort to spread from the site, but it didn´t. He internally panicked. He thought he must have bought garbage with his last ten bucks. Those ten dollars could have been a million in terms of level of difficulty for him to attain. He was already imaging fighting off the dope-sickness.

These thoughts were slightly alleviated when he felt something, a sensation. Relief. This thin relief turned to curiosity which turned to fear as the sensation was anything but familiar.  

The injection site was icy cold, yet a burning tingle washed over him. Gustavo looked on in horror as Pietro´s eyes rolled into the back of his head. Pietro started to convulse. His eyes ceased to perceive the outside world. He only saw thick blackness with flashes of red. The pain in his body was overwhelming at first, but started to subside.

As the pain ebbed, the blackness followed suit. It was slowly replaced with light and at the same time, numbness started to cover him as if it were a weak tide coming to shore.

Gustavo shook his lifeless friend to no avail. For a moment, he almost felt sadness. It was fleeting. It´s departure was accelerated by the notion that the rest of the bag was all his.

Gustavo looked at Pietro´s earthly remains and said “I guess you really couldn´t do this anymore”

Rock On!

21 Sep

Rock on

“If this guitar could talk…..” Barry said as he pulled the cord out that connects it to the amplifier.  His breath reeked so much of bad habits that it could be perceived back by the drum kit.

“Yeah man, living the life!” Steve said as he, too, unplugged his bass with an equally offensive odor emanating from his mouth.

“We´re really living the life. We actually get paid for this shit, man”, Barry said.

“Not very good, but shit, we get to drink and fuck for free” Steve replied.

“Yeah, how many chumps from high school pull down around what we do but with none of the perks….and they have to put in a whole lot more hours” Barry said as he extended his pointer and middle fingers as to make quotation marks at the word “perks”.

“Most them fools have kids and shit, just weighing them down” Steve added.

“Fuck that. Now let´s party!” Barry said as he snapped the case of his guitar shut. Steve did the same and they both left the room.

*           *          *           *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

After a few moments of silence and when it felt the coast was clear, the guitar piped up. “Hey bass, you hear those losers?”

“Yeah, they don´t even know their losers. How did we end up with them?” the bass sighed.

The drums then chimed in “They barely even get a girl once a month, without paying, and they think they are some kind of studs”

“They are right about the drinking though, they got that part down pat” the guitar said.

“Yeah, remember that fucking idiot Steve puked on me a few weeks back?” the bass said.

“Uh, huh” the drums and guitar said in unison.

“Why couldn´t we have been bought by some accountant type that a picks us up a few times a year to noodle on instead of these wanna-be jack offs?” the guitar queried.

“Even some random office type that plays in a shitty cover back from time to time would be better than this shit” the bass opined.

The drums and guitar grunted in agreement.

“Oh well, good night guys” the guitar said.

“Good night” the bass and drums answered.