From: pez@manhattan.com (Gizmo) Subject: The Adventures Of Smacks Past, Part 6 (Last stop on the D-Train) Date: 1996/09/20 newsgroups: alt.drugs.hard Continued from a previous post, "Memories of Smacks Past, Part 5 (Last stop on the D-Train) Okay, when last we left Gizmo, he had just scored some shit and was sitting in an abandoned apartment feeling pretty low. But what to do now? " I gotta get rid of this car." I go down stairs and get out on the street and start talking to the dealers. "How much can you give me for this car?" "You got all the papers man" they ask me? Of course I don't got any papers. And after haggeling for hours I finaly get a lousy stinkin $100 bucks for it. But I'm desperate. Well, I take the $100 bucks and score again. And all night long I stay stoned in that abandoned building. When morning comes, I head for my parents house. When I get there, I'm greated with icy coldness. They want nothing to do with me. Nothing. They tell me to get the fuck out. They tell me that if I don't leave they will call the cops. I try to hussle them for some money and sure enough, they call the cops. Now I gotta leave. Wandering around the streets again, I'm lost now. Don't know what to do. After about three hours I go back to my parents house again. My father is alone now. I beg him for money. He tells me to get lost. Then he starts to get sick. He already had a heart condition and I think he's having a heart attack in front of me. I'm totally blown away. And all I want is dope! Finally after taking his nitro pills, he calms down, hands me $15 and tells me to get out and never come back. I'm gone. What am I gonna do with $15 bucks. Not much. I go to my ex-wifes house, but her parents won't let me in. She meets me in the hallway and I end up sleeping on the stairwell all night. I figure I'm beat. That night, at around 4AM, I take a walk to the roof and stare up at the stars. "What the fuck am I doing?" I get no answer. But I figure I got to get back to the program or another one like it, soon. I'm gonna violate my probation if I don't. Well, the next morning my ex and I take a train into Manhattan and I'm heading for the intake center of another program. I decided I would not go back to the old one. Too much shame I guess. But on the ride downtown, I'm still burning inside. Just one more time, I tell myself. Just one more time I want to get high. But I'm out of steam. Well, a block from the intake center, guess what we see? You got it. Another car left running with nobody in it. Like the last time, although this time my ex is with me. So I shove my ex-wife into the car and off we go. This time we luck out, because there is a purse on the seat with about $50 in it. Off and running again. Shit. Well, I told you this story had a sad ending, although it was the also the end of my sad days as well. To make it real short, this is what happened. We took the money and copped. I got stoned and spent the night in the car with my ex-wife. The next day, I finally had the balls to go through with the entry into another program. Five days later, I get called into a room with the counselor and about 15 of my fellow residents. They tell me that my father died that day. He had a heart attack. You can all imagine what I went through. Also four months later I get notified that my ex-wife is wanting a divorce. Now even that link is gone. I'm totally alone. But I stayed in the program, finished it and got well. Gizmo P.S. The last I heard my ex-wife never got out of the game. She's still a dopefiend.