Citation: Moke. "The Night That (Almost) Ruined My Life: An Experience with Crack (exp69886)". Erowid.org. Jul 19, 2013. erowid.org/exp/69886
Iíll start this story with a bit of background information. The first time I ever tried crack cocaine was with one of my friends when I was coming down off of acid, he sucked at cooking and as a result, my first encounter was somewhat of a blah experience. On later dates I would try it 3 more times saying that ďthis is the last timeĒ every time. I guess that promise never stuck. It wasnít becoming a problem in my life, it was just a little dabbling. That was until my most recent experience.
Things got rolling at about 9:30 p.m. when my friend who we will call Anser gave me a call. I hadnít seen him in months, due to him traveling and long ďvacationsĒ in County Jail. He is an older participant in the graffiti community, which in the area that I live in is a subculture overrun by crack and meth. The last time I had seen him prior to this I had told him about my experiences smoking crack. He told me that I hadnít smoked crack until I had done it with him, I guess I was wrong to doubt him. Back to the story, I received a call from Anser asking what I was up to, I had left him a myspace message two days earlier so this wasnít really a surprise. I told him that I was at my friendís apartment. He asked me in a playful manner if he could use her kitchen, instantly I knew exactly what he was talking about. He came over about ten minutes later.
Upon seeing him I was shocked, I had always known Anser to be a pretty built guy, yet the Anser in front of me looked about 30 pounds lighter, greasy and somewhat more worn than the last time I had seen him. People had told me that he had been smoking a lot lately and you could definitely see it in his face. In his hands Anser held a shoebox that he opened and placed on the table. Inside were several spoons, measuring cups, an eightball of coke, arm n hammer baking soda, ethyl alcohol, crack bongs, and chapstick. He mixed the ingredients in a measuring cup using the full eightball, a large pinch of baking soda, some alcohol, and water. He heated it on the stove and then, when it was finished placed it in the freezer. 5 minutes later he removed it from the freezer pulled the rocks out, gave the girl whose apartment it was a few rocks, and then told me we needed to go pick someone up.
As we walked out to the car Anser explained to me that we were picking up a girl that he was pimping...literally. We got in the car and Anser loaded a large rock into the crack bong that was sitting in the front seat, he turned to me grinned and asked ďare you ready kid?Ē I put the hose in my mouth and sat there inhaling as Anser simultaneously drove the car and lit the crack for me. I should add that before this point I had only used a pipe, which gives you much smaller hits. As I felt the hit enter my body I was astounded at the amount of smoke I was getting from one hit. I held the hit while Anser put on some Madonna.
As soon as I exhaled I felt a familiar, yet way more intense feeling of euphoria, and began to experience mild auditory hallucinations.
Some minutes later we picked up Anserís hoe who we will call S. She was just getting back from turning a trick. This night was already getting weird. As we pulled away from the apartment complex where we had picked her up, I watched Anser and S take hits. We headed back towards my friend's apartment but instead I called another friend who lives in the same building but has a much bigger and more comfortable apartment. When we got to his apartment Anser set my friend, who we will call MCK up with a good sized hit. MCK took his hit gratefully, along with a small handful of rocks that Anser gave him for letting us smoke in his apartment. After smoking for a while Anser told me that he had to leave and that he was going to a party. I asked if it was ok if I came, he said no, that it was 21 and up. I was visibly disappointed but Anser told me not to worry and that my night was nowhere close to being over. I decided to walk back to my dorm, so I could freshen up and prepare myself for the night to come. I had a large amount of ecstasy in my backpack, which I removed, mostly because I make bad decisions concerning drugs when Iím on drugs. Shortly after this Anser called me and told me he was waiting outside. I came down stairs and him and S were sitting in the car, Anser in the passenger seat and S in the back. Shit, I guess Iím driving. I drive from location to location as we sit and smoke crack, occasionally dropping S off at someoneís house or apartment so that she could make some money.
By the time she made her last transaction it was around 1:30 and we were out of crack. It was at this point that Anser made a phone call and directed me while I slowly drove into the heart of the ghetto. We stopped outside a house, purchasing another eightball, but this one was already cooked up. As we continued to smoke we passed a Lincoln Continental with its parking lights on. This was odd considering we were in a sketchy neighborhood and it was 2:30 a.m. however I brushed it off as nothing. However twenty minutes later and in a different neighborhood the same Continental was once again sitting with its parking lights on, but this time as we passed, it turned on its engine and began to follow us.
This really scared me, partially because by this point it was almost 3 and there was an all black car with tinted out windows slowly creeping on my tail and partially because I was high on crack and as paranoid as humanly possible.
We all came to the conclusion that the Feds were following us and pulled the car over. We hid the drug paraphernalia that was in the car and hopped out. S mingled by the car smoking a cigarette while Anser and I walked up the street. We walked a half a block and then turned back around. What the fuck?!?! S was gone and she had left her cell phone and purse in the car. We called her name several times with no response, so we hopped back in the car and waited for another ten minutes. When after 10 minutes she had not come back to the car we began to worry. We drove around the neighborhood in every direction with no luck of finding her. It was around this time that we came to a terrifying realization, we were in her car, with her purse, and we were the last people that she was seen with. At this point we got very paranoid, wondering if she had been murdered. We sat in the car frantically conversing over what we should do. Almost 40 minutes later I spotted S wandering aimlessly down the street, we pulled over and got her in the car. The most disturbing part about what had just happened was that she had no recollection of where she had been or what she had been doing. At this point we decided to go back to Sís apartment. I had no idea what I was in for.
We arrived at her apartment nor more than 5 minutes later where I was greeted by a terrible odor, upon turning on the lights I looked around seeing over 100 cigarette butts littering the floor, food, clothes and other garbage strewn everywhere. In the center of the room there were three chairs set up. We each took a chair and sat, smoking more and more crack. At some point in the night Anser began to doze off, tired from a 5 day spree with almost no sleep.
With all of the crack smoked, me and S turned to the floor where, there were little tiny rocks of crack, ALL OVER THE FLOOR. I never thought I would stoop to this level, yet I found myself crawling on my hands and knees at 6:30 in the morning on a disgustingly filthy carpet, looking for crack rocks. I built a small pile up that lasted until roughly 11:30 a.m. at this point I sat, making phone calls and picking music on the computer, not having anything else to do. Around 1:00 p.m. Anser woke up, fiending for more crack. So, we hopped in the car and bought another gram.
By this point Anser, S and I had collectively smoked a quarter ounce of crack. We picked up the gram and headed back to the apartment. I looked at the clock shortly after we returned. Shit where did the time go? Itís already 2:30. We sat and smoked the gram, which was much stronger than the other crack that we had smoked before. Upon taking a large hit I immediately began to freak out and sweat, I was overdosing. Luckily, Anser talked me through it, gave me water and calmed me down until I felt OK. I looked at the clock again, 3:45. I did not take another hit after this, and slowly came down and returned to a semi normal state, or so I thought.
Roughly 2 hours later my friend called me, weíll call her Brux. She picked me up in her car and we went to go pick up some weed. I told her about the night before and as the words left my mouth I began feeling worse and more upset by the second. It was nice to talk to her, partially because I have a large amount of trust in her and partially because, for the 20 hours previous to this I had not had any face to face interaction with anyone who wasnít high on crack. I looked back at the events of the night and realized that they only seemed alright because I was high, and that everything that happened was pretty disturbing. We smoked a blunt and I began to feel better. She picked up my other friend who we will call Crayons and dropped us both off at Anserís apartment. I picked up my backpack, which I had left with him earlier in the day and then left. We then headed toward MCKís apartment and stopped in a store on the way.
In the store I made the worst mistake of my life. I tried to steal while I was high and coming down off of crack. As I made my way towards the entrance I was stopped, and when I started to struggle choked and thrown onto the ground. At this point I was arrested and taken to Jail. While jail did not do anything positive for my criminal record, it did do something positive for me. It made me sit for 2 days and ponder my actions in an environment where I had no choice but to remain sober. It was in Jail that I decided that this would be the last time, that I would EVER smoke crack.
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