I was working badly at a drugstore at the time, going into work half the time stoned, tripping, or coming down off of something. My manager had taken a liking to making my life a living hell by following me around when I was pretending to be working, as there actually was no real work to be done. Eventually, he had been telling every customer in line to tell me that I was worthless after we had finished the transaction. After about the tenth person told me I was worthless, I whipped out a box cutter and gouged my arm with it. The customer shrieked the obvious AA response "OH MY GOD" and ran out of the store. With each person telling my I was worthless, I carved a chicken scratch in my arm with the box cutter to commemorate the occasion. I walked up to my boss after the shift, my forearms carved to rippets. "You're lucky I didn't slit my wrists today. Every person tells me I'm worthless I carve a gash into my arm right in front of their face." He winced in faggot suicide pain and I left with my paycheck to score some meth and LSD with Gill. We were driving to a meth lab up north that was hidden in a garage behind a decrepit house. We had to push my sister's car out of the garage and start it in the street to get going, and once we were on the expressway we incessantly smoked cigarettes. We made it to the house and were greeted by a dealer that led us through the house, past piles of dirty clothes and dirty dishes, sleeping obese women, broken babies' cribs, television sets long burned out from never bothering to turn them off, stained pipes, and meth lab detritus long in decay. We made it into the lab- bathtub and tubing, glass pipes, rubber tubing, little candles, huge bongs, and dudes sitting in the corner doing bumps of meth off their car keys. I was sold a 60-dollar bag and instantly did a bump off someone's key. I also purchased a vial of liquid LSD for 50 bucks, as I was a valued customer. We sat there doing bumps for a while until the fog lifted and then we were wired. As we paced around smoking cigarettes tweaking, a woman walked in with a baby and explained that she was going through withdrawals and wanted to trade the baby in exchange for some crystal meth. The dealers didn't want the baby, but that didn't mean they didn't want to gangbang the chick, who was actually an unemployed kindergarten teacher. The head dealer went over a cabinet, took out a sawed off shotgun, tossed it to me "Hold this!" and then the fun began. She bent over a chair and exposed her buttocks, and in between smoking meth out of glass pipes and chipped-glass light bulbs, they would pound the woman who cried through the whole thing. The room was nearly opaque with a bitter smoke, and the baby sobbed unnoticed on a table across the room next to the equipment. I set the shotgun down on a pool table missing one leg, and Gill and I snuck out, and drove back to our pad, doing bumps off our keys the whole way back. Later I found out the baby died from smoke inhalation.
I was at work again, and tweaking. I took the vial of LSD out of my pocket and dropped a couple of drops on my tongue, then poured the rest into the coffee pot and waited for the fun to begin. "I think something's wrong with me..." My four coworkers were stumbling around, drinking coffee. One was upstairs in the office poking his scrotum with a pen. Two others were standing around staring at things. The fourth was chainsmoking in the glass door enclave that opened up the store. People kept coming in and asking for service, and I was the only one who could respond. The other four could barely talk. Customers insulted them, called them worthless, slapped them when they slurred their words. It was then I noticed Onyx come in. He looked around then approached me. "What the fuck is going on in here?" he says. "I spiked the coffee with black diamond." "Holy shit..." He runs out the door, and moments later returns with this guy we called Jim Beam because he had forgotten what his name was. They shat on the floor, pissed in the corner, jerked off on the register. One of them yanked down the manager's pants and shoved a Snickers bar up his ass. They started a fire in the urinal with starter logs then tried to put it out by flushing it. They put tampons in my co-workers' nostrils and stole OxyContin out of the pharmacy. At one point the manager stumbled with the Snickers bar in his ass and his pants around his ankles and his penny loafers fell off. Onyx chased the guy around slapping the guy's asscheeks with his penny loafers until the manager collapsed on a toilet paper display, sending toilet paper flying in all directions. I had seen enough, I had to get out of Ohio. I stole a carton of Kools and a case of Busch and left to come down off my meth high and trip. I would go see my contact in Louisiana soon.
