A Very Weird Story

I have a weird story.  Before today, nobody has ever walked up to me and offered me crack.   Today I rode the Greyhound bus.

Actually – that sentence is misleading, because what happened did not happen on the bus or even on Greyhound property. However, as a result of having ridden the bus, I was waiting for a friend of mine to pick me up from the bus station and while I was waiting an interesting fellow offered me crack cocaine.   Here’s how it went down:

Him: Hey, you wanna smoke – I’d like to get you high and do things to you.

Me: Ignore him… ignore him… ignore him…

He walked over to me and said, “Hey, let’s smoke some shit and get crazy,” and opened his hand up to show me two vials in his hand.  I’m such a dork that I said, “What is that?”  He said, “That’s rock, baby.  Wanna smoke?”

Yeah, no.  Definitely not.  Nope.  Thanks, but no thanks.  (Crack is whack)

He asked me if I was waiting for someone.  What was his first clue?  The giant suitcase I was standing next to while watching the cars to keep an eye out for Mike.  I told him that I was expecting my friend any second.  He walked away, but said he would be back and when he came back, if I was still there, he was going to get me high.

Now, this has never happened to me before, not even for weed at the Oregon Country Fair (WTF?)  Nobody has ever offered me doses or hits.  I even had a difficult time finding the black market in Chinatown in NYC.  (True story)

The happy ending: Mike picked me up and I never saw Crack-Man again.  I do have a very weird story now, though.