From: pez@manhattan.com (Gizmo)
Subject: The Adventures Of Smacks Past (Part 1)  A Step Back In Time
Date: 1996/09/20
newsgroups: alt.drugs.hard

Ah, yes I can almost see, hear, smell and taste this time.
It was 1963.  The Italian Mafia was still in control of junk during
these days.  I hoped on the IRT subway from the Northeast part of the
Bronx heading south.  On my way to score.  Couldn't wait.  Stop by
stop, I,m counting the train stations.  Pelham Parkway, Bronx Park
East, East 180th Street & Tremont Ave., finally Freeman Street.
Freeman, Fox, Home Streets.  Back when they were alive with the stuff
I craved.  Back when they were still a dope fiends paradise.  These
were the neighborhoods that they filmed in the Al Pacino movie, Fort
Apache.  Fort Apache, since been renamed, "Little House on The
Prarie!"

Okay, who's got stuff?  I see Al Copone.  They called him that because
of the six inch scare across his face, just like his former namesake.

"Yo Al, who's got product?"

"Yea, Man.  Go see Mikey.  He's open now."

I go and knock on the door to talk to Mikey.  Sure enough he's home
and he says, "come on in."  Who has house connections like this now?
Back then, you rarely bought something right on the street.  If you
did, it was probably a beat.

"I want half a load Mike, okay?"

"Sure man.  Just a minute."

A half a load.  No one uses these measurments anymore.  A half a load
was fifteen $2. dollar bags.  That's right, two dollars a bag.  And
you could buy a half a load for say, $20 to $25 bucks!

This was good white dope.  Kind of like the stuff that's been around
these last few years, excecpt different in a way.  Just seemed to
produce a better nod.  Maybe it's because back than the only thing you
got was dope converted straight from the opium poppy.  Just opium to
morphine, to heroin.  Cut with quinine and milk sugar.  That's it.
Who knows what you get today?

Later back home, I'm ready to do it up.  I carefully unwrap my "works"
from their hiding place.  "Works," the way they used to be.  None of
this diabetic syringe shit.  This was a glass eyedropper, a baby
pacifier for suction, a torn off end of a dollar bill to make a collar
to hold the spike on the eyedropper and a rubber band to hold the
pacifier on the other end.

When you got the hit, you could see the "red plumb," squirt into the
set.  You knew you had a hit.  Then you could send it in.  And your
sailing away on wave after wave of opiated bliss.  Hmmmm.

Junk, even it's claimed your soul for a time, you gotta just love it.

Gizmo
A blast from times past

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