The Morphine Story

OK -i'll continue my amateur sleuthing next time. Meanwhile....

In an earlier post -i forget which, but I was talking about how super-safe manhattan is- I made an allusion to how I once walked across Manhattan at 4am “high as a kite on morphine”

Due to popular request (well, 2 people have now asked -at least I know i'm not wanking into the void here!) I'll tell the whole story

This is a classic piece of “spencer sketchiness” in that

a) it involves drugs, and

b) it involves me being a total idiot

it could have come right out of the 2000-2001 sketchyspencer scrapbook!

So without further ado, here it is: The Morphine Story

OK.

Before I got my job at Jazz, in order to save money, I lived at a hostel in brooklyn for a little while.

There, I befriended an American guy

(I normally only use real names in this blog, but because there is a certain amount of illegality involved, and I wouldn't want him to get in trouble, no matter how unlikely, let's call him... “Ira”¹)

Ira's an interesting dude -he's ex-army; has served in iraq

Not during the invasion, but he did a tour as part of the occupation

He was in the artillery, ha ha

Y'know those big missle launcher things you saw on the news during the invasion that fire salvo after salvo of rockets?

He operated one of those bad boys

But there's not exactly much use for those in a counter-insurgency conflict, is there?

(we had many, many conversations about the idiocy of the US high command -and Donald Rumsfeld and the so-called “Commander-in-Chief” in particular)

So Ira wasn't exactly called on to do much in his stint in iraq

He and his buddies spent most of the time on a base in the middle of the desert bored out of their minds

One of the things they used to do to kill the time was raid the pharmacy on the base for codeine, gobble down the pills and watch DVDs in a kind of doped up daze

Ira waxed lyrical about how good this was, and one night when we'd been drinking (I think we'd had some blow too) I agreed to do this with him

I thought no more of it, but a few days later Ira calls me up² and says his cousin (a drug dealer in queens) has sorted him out with some morphine pills -do I still want to do the movie thing?

Now I had some reservations about doing this

But I didn't want to seem like a pussy either

So that friday night we arrange to go see a film

We go to a theater off times square

We were going to see Saw IV, but it had sold out

So we got tickets to see Blade Runner: The Final Cut instead (a suitably “visual” movie)

Now Ira had no idea how strong these pills were

So we agreed to do quarters -he goes to the restroom to do his quarter; I go to the restroom to do mine

Then we settle down to watch the movie

Pretty soon, almost as soon as the trailers are done, Ira tells me he's feeling pretty spaced

I don't really feel anything

Just a bit of a tingle, could be “drugs anticipation”³

Halfway through the movie, Ira leans over and tells me he's fucked

I'm still not getting anything!

So I ask him if I can have some more

He asks me if i'm sure; I tell him I'm sure and he hands me the baggie and I go to the restroom

There, I give myself a generous quarter -more like a third

By the time the movie is reaching it's climax (“I've seen things you people wouldn't believe...”) I was feeling pretty good

How has my life come to this? (I was thinking) I'm sitting in a cinema in New York City, off times square no less, with an Iraq war veteran, high on morphine

How utterly, utterly absurd

When the lights come up, Ira doesn't look so good

His eyes are kind of puffy

Me, I'm feeling great

We go for a drink in Greenwich Village

On the subway, Ira looks worse

I ask if he's OK -he says he's feeling nauseous

His head keeps going down

I wonder -in a detached kind of way⁴- what i'll do if he collapses on the subway. There's no way I can carry him; he's twice my weight at least. Authorities would have to be called. And Ira still has the bag of pills about his person somewhere

ah ha ha

But we manage to get off the subway without Ira puking or fainting, and i get him sat in a bus shelter while i buy some water from a drugstore.

It's well past midnight by now.

And I'm feeling like a bit of a bigshot.

I took twice his dose, and he's twice my size! I can take my drugs! I'm hardcore!

MAN-CHEST-TORRRRRR!

After i give Ira some water he feels better.

Then i take him to a mcdonalds and after he's had a burger he feels better still. He's OK.

And it's then, as he's finishing off his burger, that i learn something important about the pills we've taken.

I hadn't been listening to Ira properly when he told me how you're supposed to do them.

They're slow-release morphine pills.

In order to get the proper hit you have to chew them up in your mouth.

I hadn't done that; i'd taken mine like, well, pills.⁵

Ah ha ha ha

But what the hell, i thought. I'm good!

So we go for a beer and then decide to call it a night.

Ira has to work the next day, i'm supposed to be seeing somebody about a job.⁶

As we part at the subway, I realize I'm starting to feel rather “floaty”

(Looking back, this was probably the second dose starting to take effect)
The next couple of hours are pretty hazy.

Basically, i was out of it. I mean, totally fucked.

I got lost on the subway!

(A proper “lost-it”, as sarahfriend says)

At the weekends they do maintenance work on the subway, and loads of services don't run or don't stop at certain stations.

It's hard enough to work out sober.

Fucked up, it was a nightmare!

I was riding the subway all over the city.

At one point i thought i was gonna seriously freak out.

The walls were closing in man!

And it was hot as hell down there too.

Somewhere in there, I end up at columbus circle.

It's nowhere near my hostel, but i'm confident i could find my way back from there: all i have to do is keep central park to my right. It's a 50 block journey.

So i start walking.

Walking-cum-floating.

At 4am.

In the light New York rain.
(If this was an Irvine Welsh story something horrible would have happened to me on the way home. But i float through this life like a carefree angel on a cloud, remember, and nothing happened)

Also Manhattan, as i've said numerous times, is the safest place I've ever lived.

It took me a couple of days to get over the pills.

I got the nausea Ira had, and bad.

But on the Sunday I slept all day in Central Park.

It was a beautiful sunny day. The sun felt so good on my skin!I had the most amazing dreams, and every time i opened my eyes I was surrounded by shimmering green grass and reassuring sounds; birdsong, children playing, laughing.

It was how you imagine heaven must be like

(Gave me an insight into the lure of opiates, I can tell you).

Anyhow, that's the story of how I came to be walking across manhattan at 4 in the morning high as kite on morphine.

S-K-E-T-C-H-Y

(well, this is the NY Sketch, after all)

Believe it or not those are the only narcotics i've ingested since i've been over here.

However, a guy has just moved into the hostel who puts on raves in New York

The kind of drugs he can get hold of would make your hair stand on end (or salivate like a hungry dog, depending on your preference)

But I don't do that stuff anymore, do I?

Or do I...?

;-)

1As well as being a good “American” name, those in the know (and lateral thinkers) will be able to work out his real name from this.

2I'd moved back to manhattan by this point. The brooklyn hostel sucked; zero atmosphere.

3Anyone who's ever done pills/acid will know exactly what I mean by this.

4That'll be the morphine then.

5I know this now sounds like something Irvine Welsh would write, and that I am a so-called writer of fictions, but this is 100% truth. I swear it by all that is sacred to me!

6My little cafe bar job at Jazz!

Real Life Colombo (pt 1)

The Story So Far....

Dan has been robbed -by one of his colleagues as he slept. Only an hater of dan would do such a thing, and there is an obvious candidate: Darryl, the boyfriend (or whatever) of one of the girls he was sharing a bed with the night before. Dan's put the word out that he'll get the police involved unless the money's returned, pronto, and that the circumstantial evidence doesn't look good for Darryl.

Darryl gets wind of this and, furious, goes over to confront Dan, forcing Dan to cut short a call to the UK....

O to the M to the G!¹

What could possibly happen next? Read on....

So I'm sat there on the floor, and Darryl is standing over me

LOOMING over me

And I look up into his eyes

RIGHT into his eyes²

And I see the look of a man who has been accused of something he didn't do

I've seen that look a few times; sometimes on my own face in the mirror

The pupils are dilated, the gaze is fixed and steady

I knew instantly he didn't do it

And that, dear reader, was the whole point of the exercise

I was never going to call the police

I'm not an idiot -i know the police are going to have scant regard for a crime that has no witnesses and no recoverable evidence (money being the most disposable commodity in the world)

And even if they did somehow pursue it -would I really want to put everyone at the hostel though the tedium of giving statements, testimony etc

For $200?

Please

No, I just needed to be sure it wasn't darryl

I was 80-90% sure -but I didn't know him all that well

I get to know people through either smoking or drinking (or both)

Darryl does neither

He's a laconic character too

But we were slowly developing a friendship -i'd give him free food at the cafe bar when he was skint; we'd talk about (american) football, that sort of thing

So I really hoped it wasn't him -in fact, I was almost certain it wasn't

But I had to be sure

So I had to make him think I was going to shop him

And the only way to do that was to go through shannon, make HER believe I was going to shop him

I had to force the confrontation

And it wasn't him

The only problem is, I've kind of overplayed my hand

I've been a bit TOO convincing

Darryl looks ready to kill me

Hmm

It's a bit of a sticky situation, to say the least....

So what I do first is get (slowly) to my feet

Then I tell darryl I'm not going to call the cops on him

That it was never my intention to call the cops ON HIM, just call the cops

He tells me that's what shannon told him

I told him shannon had got the wrong end of the stick³

(all the while i'm talking to him i'm, slowly making my way over to the cafe bar)

He produces his cell phone and asks me to explain the text message that shannon's sent him

(the gist of which is that i'm calling the cops on him; she thought she knew him but now she doesn't etc)

All I can do is reiterate that i'm NOT calling the cops on him

He asks me to explain the text message

All I can say is “I didn't write it, shannon did”

By now we are in the cafe bar

My friends are there, including coco⁴, and I feel safer right away

But as i'm talking to darryl, I walk around the cafe bar counter, so there is an obstacle between us

(for psychological reasons rather than defensive ones)

by this time shannon is on the scene

and harold, davey and a bunch of other people

It all gets quite heated -a lot of people have had very little sleep, everyone has a different version of what's going on

I start to lose it because no one is letting me finish my sentences

Eventually harold says we have to take it outside because it looks bad in front of the guests

So we do, but shannon insists darryl stays inside with her (darryl is anyway working)

Me, coco, davey, harold, steve and a couple of other guys stand in front of the hostel, smoking and discussing further

I can see darryl at the front desk, the window is open -he's listening to us

so I say loudly, several times, for his benefit, how I was never calling the police ON HIM; I'm calling the police because i've been robbed and i'm not going to let it go -i'm not going to let someone fuck with me and get away with it⁵

Eventually steve says the first sensible thing anyone's said to me all day: “dude, you've had no sleep, you're emotional. It's chris's last night⁶ -go out enjoy yourself, forget about all this for tonight.”

He's right

I go have a shower, freshen up, get changed.

But there's something I have to do before going downtown

I find darryl and shannon outside the the staff basement; they've been arguing

I ask them to take a walk around the block with me

I explain to them both that I was never going to call the police, that I just needed to be sure it wasn't darryl, to convince darryl that I was going to do it, I had to convince shannon etc

I apologise to them for the mind games -but they were a necessary evil

The conversation ends on a friendly note -me and darryl shake hands⁷

Shannon says the second sensible thing i've heard all day: “let's talk about this more tomorrow -when we've all had some sleep!”

But before they go, I ask them not to tell anybody that calling the police was a bluff

Because if darryl didn't do it, I still need to smoke out the person who did

The police threat had two objectives (three actually⁸): the first was to clear darryl as a suspect

The second was to mindgame the real culprit

Anyone who steals from someone as they sleep -someone incapacitated by drink- is a coward

And cowards, by their nature, get nervous

So I had to kick up as big a fuss as I could, shout about calling the police, lose my shit basically

All the time when darryl was confronting me, and everyone was sticking their oar in, I had one eye keeping a look out for anyone acting weird, nervous, flighty

Guilty, in other words

And one person stuck out like a sore thumb

Who was this person?

Find out next time!

TO BE CONTINUED....

1I've been bitten by a black dog; black man wants to kick my ass -it's naked prejudice I tells ya!

2A very difficult thing to do. It's hard to look someone right in the eye at the best of times, let alone when they are about to kick your skinny little ass.

3This is a white lie. While I might have never explicitly said I was going to call the cops “on” darryl, this is what I led Shannon to believe, by implication. But given the circumstances, who's counting white lies?

4Coco is my brother. He says that to me all the time, that I am his “big brother”. (And rachel is his “little sister”). That's serious shit in african culture. He's told me many times that if anyone tries to fuck with me (or Rachel) he will fuck them up. He means it too.

5Even though I knew I was never going to call the police, it was still important that everyone thought I was going to, for reasons that will become clear.

6The first of many “last nights”. The douchebag's still here tho!

7There's a nice (and amusing) coda to this part of the story. Darryl and I are friends now. You can't go through an experience like that with someone without learning their measure. I found out darryl is a christian, a good christian, sticks to his principles (for example, he LOVES texas hold em -he's a texan- but doesn't ever play in our poker night because it's against his beliefs to gamble), studies his bible. I also found out that he is ex-special forces. Ex-Homeland Security (he showed me his old ID!) He's black belt in two different martial arts; as well as the hostel job he's an instructor at one of the top martial arts schools in the country.

So if push HAD come to shove, he could've crippled me with his little finger... nail. Ah ha ha ha ha ha.

8The third objective was to send out a message to staff that if you fuck with my stuff I will kick up a shitstorm. I thought this would be enough to make people think twice. Wrong: after my trip to england in the new year, I came back to the hostel and found all my dogwalking gear had disappeared! Old shitty clothes, true, but still....

A Day In The Life Of A New York Dogwalker

I had a funny afternoon dogwalking last week

In fact I was moved to write a blow-by-blow account of what happened for the owner of the dog i was walking, and for kathi

by the time i was done, and i'd read it back to myself, i thought -hmm looks and reads like a blog post (without my terrible potty-mouth). Might as well blog it!

If you are not interested in dogs and doggie matters (or what i do for a living in NY), you might want to skip this post

But on the other hand -there is a car crash... and somebody gets bit by a great dane!

Here are some picture of the hounds in question: Lucy and Obi

Sooooo cute! They are good doggies! Oh yes they are! Oh yesyesyesyes!

(but not every day; below is the text of the email i sent)

Ok this is a bit of a, ha ha, shaggy dog story

-are we sitting comfortably? Then we'll begin.

(i'll write in the present tense, if you don't mind, I find it easier)

OK, so after I pick up Lucy I get to obi's place about 12.30

Obi does not come greet

uh-oh, I think

but he has made no messes, just lying on his bed in the bedroom looking sorry for himself

I try to get him enthused -no dice

so I have to leash him up with him lying down

I even have to lift his chin up!

But once we're out on the street he's fine

So I make the call to take him to the dog run

But maybe it is a little soon for the dog run since his illness

He lifts his leg 2 or 3 times once we're in the dog run

At one point he sits down -so I think, ok, just ten mins today

but it ends sooner than that

Obi has a stick

And a boston terrier (whose name is fred, it turns out) wants the stick

So Obi has a go at Fred -growling/snarling

(they had not been introduced, and it wouldn't have happened if they had, but still -no excuses)

Luckily I am right there, so I get Obi by the collar, tell him “NO”, pull him away

But the problem is, the terrier is so small, and obi is so big

Fred just sidles around like a crab so he's always facing obi, barking/snarling

so crucially, I can't break eye contact between them

After a few seconds of this, obi reaches breaking point

He LUNGES

But I could sense him about to do it, and I'd kept a little of my (not great!) strength in reserve

(and i'm quicker than that big lunk too)

I PULL him back, and at the same time plant my leg in the way

The upshot of which is obi bites me on the thigh

(i'd just like to reiterate, obi was not going for me, his target was fred; and he has done me no damage, just obi-spit on my pants, and I think i'll have some obi-tooth shaped bruises on my leg)

But this is now TOTALLY UNACCEPTABLE

and STILL no one has dealt with fred, who's STILL getting in obi's face!

so I yell “HEY, WHOSE DOG IS THIS?”

So finally the guy comes over and we can break it up

I'm not happy with obi, obviously

We walk away and I grab his leash from where I left it

Tell him it's over for today

I have difficulty getting him to sit too -but I do and I get the leash on

Then I tell him off -and it's like kathi's voice is coming out of my mouth!

“OBI -NO! NEVER DO THAT, NEVER! THAT IS NOT ACCEPTABLE! NOT EVER!”

He gets the message

I tie him to the bench, and seek out the owner of fred

I apologise for obi's behaviour, tell him that obi can get possessive, but he's a puppy, and he's normally very placid

And you know what this guy says to me?

“Yeah I don't think I've ever seen a great dane so cranky”

What an asshole!

I walked away from that, collected lucy

but here's what I wanted to say:

“Hey, it was YOUR dog that started on MY dog, remember?

YOUR dog tried to steal obi's stick

and YOU didn't rush over here to help ME break it up

so now MY dog looks like the monster to the rest of the dog run

thanks a bunch, buddy”

So I'm still fuming about that as I walk the dogs back

(meantime I am giving obi the cold shoulder for his disgraceful behavior -it is also now that he finally takes a dump: which was small and perfectly formed! And the only good thing he's done today)

But then something nice happens

a guy riding his bike pulls up, asks if I mind if he pets obi

(obi doesn't deserve it, but I say OK)

Turns out he is the owner of the infamous Oreo!

(Oreo is another black great dane, female, and every time I walk obi in central park at least one person asks if he is oreo. I tell obi: “hey big guy, I hate to break your heart but your celebrity status is diminished -you're not the only black great dane in town!”)

so we chat for a while, which is good because I get to vent about the prick in the dog run

I also offer mine and kathi's services -but I don't have a card! damn!

But he tells me to look him up

His name is Ben Herman, and he lives on W94

Seems like a very nice man, obviously LOVES great danes

He was unsure whether he needed dogwalking, but he was very keen that we should set obi and oreo up on a “date” (but a date that leads nowhere, seeing as how they have both been “fixed”) in the dog run

I am keen too -it is not often obi has the chance to play with someone his size

So maybe we could all (me, kathi, chris, alison, ben, his wife) do that, one weekend?

that'd be nice -and they'd be some great photo ops too!

I told him I (or kathi) would give him a call, and he bikes off

So that was pleasant after the unpleasantness

The dogs and I set off again

And obi is being a pain in the butt!

Slams the brakes on; tries to grab lucy's leash

(I know why he's doing it -he doesn't understand why I, who is usually at his beck and call, am ignoring him)

Well, as we all know, we do not give attention to children who seek it by being bad

The only attention I give him are corrections

We get back to obi's place

And he is a good boy and sits without being asked to for the end-of-walk routine

So I get the leash off him, hang it up

I am just about to make my peace with him -which was my plan all along- but when my back was turned, he starts on lucy!

Not seriously, just a butt with his big old head

(I think this is jealously because I wasn't giving the Lucy the silent treatment -and why should I? She has been an EXTREMELY good dog today, unlike certain great dane puppies I could mention)

So that is the final straw

I take him by the collar and put him in his crate -as well as punishment i didn't trust him not to destroy something today, he's in such a funny mood

(But here is my theory about his recent behavior -he is now a teenager! I was a nightmare when I was a teenager too

I don't think I ever bit anybody though)

Before lucy and I leave, I make up with him though the bars of the crate

so no hard feelings

but I tell him I expect to see a reformed dog for the morning walk tomorrow!

(He just need to get over his thing with “possessions” -maybe I should take him to Strawberry Fields tomorrow, play him Imagine.... My headphones are obi sized too, ha ha)

But wait -that is not the end of the story! (what, there's more??)

When lucy and I get outside we 'bump' into a lady walking her dog who lives in the building

I'm not sure what the breed is, some kind of fluffy terrier I think

(my sister got me some puppy top trump cards for christmas this year -i am going to use them to “bone up” [no pun intended, honest. Well, maybe a little bit] on the breeds)

anyway lucy's tail is wagging so I let them say hello to each other

and they do so in the most adorable manner you can imagine

the lady actually says “Oh, isn't that adorable!”

Then she says, “Oh I think I know this one, I've seen your boss walking her. And I have to say, I think she's a little heavy handed.”

ho-ho!

oh dear oh dear

boy, did she pick the wrong person to say THAT to

especially since I'm still “juiced” from my tussle with the big guy

So this is what I say -in a very calm, sweet-as-you-like manner:

“Hey, if it wasn't for kathi and her “heavy handedness” you and I would not be having this conversation, and the dogs would not be having THEIR conversation because Lucy would be going ballistic at your dog. Last year, before kathi got her hands on her, she was a terror, crazy. You couldn't take her down the street without a battle. Now look-”

And, right on cue, lucy looks up at us and wags her tail as if to say “look what I happy dog I am!”

Good on you, lucy!

So then this lady-who-knows-better says: “Well, there are ways other than-”

I cut her off: “We'll have to agree to disagree. Kathi's way is the best way, i've seen the results. C'mon luce.”

And with that we trot off into the sunset (metaphorically).

The moral of the story: Don't hate on kathi if i'm in earshot!

Now that was going to be the end of the story, but there is an epilogue that will have you cheering inside

After I drop off lucy, I walk to the 96^th st/central park west subway to go home

Just as I get there, a car doing 50 or 60mph down central park west jumps the red light and SLAMS right into the side of a car pulling out of 96

there are maybe 25 people milling around the subway entrance who all saw it happen

both drivers get out of their cars unscathed

but guess who else was there to see it -the NYPD!

me and a couple of other people were like, “that guy is soooooooo busted!”

people who speed down central park west I have a personal hatred for

it's one of my nightmares that one day i'll be crossing the street to get to the park and one of these jokers will jump a light and hit one of the dogs

Well that's one less idiot to worry about!

ha ha

(and it's nice to see someone get arrested who deserves it, for a change)

Sorry for the EXTREMELY long mail -but what a crazy afternoon!

now for a lie down....

Dan

Only In New York

So it started snowing yesterday
"Finally!" I thought
So I went to walk to the shop in it
But the streets were too wet for it to settle
"Damn" I thought
But that didn't deter the first person I saw after i left the hostel -a dude SKIING down Manhattan Ave!
That's right -skiing
This takes this town's reputation for impatience to new levels: it's only been snowing for about half an hour, there isn't even snow on the ground, and someone's already skiing (really quite fast, i might add)
How does he ski with no snow, I hear you ask?
Well he was wearing "street skis" i.e. skis with wheels
Which made me and my friends wonder -why the hell did he bother to wait for it to start snowing?
We agreed that he must have been after a more "real" skiing experience
But thinking about it later I remembered that the times i've been skiing, you don't go skiing as it's snowing: it snows at night and you ski in the day when the weather is 90% of the time blue skies and sun
So, i dunno
Don't try and rationalize what new yorkers do -they walk (or ski) their own path

The Spekhead Fights Back!

OK. Time to get back down to the business in hand....

The Story So Far....

Dan has been robbed of $200 dollars, his nintendo DS -almost certainly by a “friend” and colleague- has quit his job as a consequence, came close to quitting the country too, and got totally burned by someone he thought he trusted -right in his hour of need!

Man, that shit is fucked up!

But dan chooses not to run and hide like a pussywillow -he chooses to fight!

Hell, yeah!

How does he do so? Read on....

I eventually find kathi and I tell her what's been going on

It takes a good while!

Her eyes just get wider and wider1

After we do the walk, I say goodbye, will keep her posted

I then realise I have eaten nothing at all that day, and it's already 4 o' clock2

So I go get pizza

while i'm eating my pizza, jane calls me

(remember jane? One of the two lucky girls [shannon was t'other] I spent the previous night with)

She's heard what's happened now, the theft, that i've quit etc

And she tells me my DS has been found, in her room3

Phew!

But there is still the matter of the money

And it's to her that I unburden my suspicions

which are as follows:

who is my obvious enemy right now?

Could it be the guy who was on the verge of dragging me out of bed and beating the shit of me last night because I was in bed with “his” girl?

Davey had just said to me that morning how angry Darryl was with me

(remember now that NOTHING HAPPENED; nada, zilch!)

And Darryl lives in the basement too (the door to basement was locked after jane and I got in)

And he was working that night, so he knew how much money I had (after I thought it had been robbed the first time)

Shannon must have been with Jane, and heard her side of the conversation, because Jane puts her on the line

Shannon makes a very impassioned defense for Darryl's innocence

About how he would never do something like that, not in a million years

How she herself is a light sleeper, would have woken up if anyone came into the room

But I'm not having it

She tells me at one point -after I lay out all the (circumstantial) evidence against darryl- how i'm “breaking [her] heart”

This is what I say to her4: “Hey shannon, you listen to me now: unless that money somehow turns up before tomorrow I WILL call the cops. I'm through with people at this fucking hostel disrespecting me. Tell Darryl I want that money back before tomorrow or I'm calling the police. I'm not gonna accuse anyone of anything, just tell the police what's been going on over the past 24 hours. How the fuck do you think it's going to look to them? You can save your shit for the courtroom, yeah? You can be star witness for the defense.”

Then I hang up on her.

After that, I finish my meal, wander around the upper west for a while

walk, think

think, walk

and also, if I'm honest (and this blog is 100% candid, much to certain people's [justified] annoyance): I'm scared

I've never in my whole life been in a position like this

I've never said things like i've said -to anyone, ever

this is (to quote startrek, like the little gimpy geek I am) “an undiscovered country”

eventually I get back to the hostel, to face the proverbial music

but the first thing I do is get on a payphone to england and make an important phonecall5

It's in the middle of this call that darryl comes over

I don't know whether he is working, or has been waiting for me specific

One thing's for sure, 100%:

He's angry

Reeeeeeeeeeeeeally angry

I'm having this phone convo sitting on the floor

And darryl is suddenly there, towering over me

(this is perspective in action; he's a short guy, but right now he looks like a giant)

He works out too

(a self confessed “protein junkie”)

he's FIT

y'know how in shit literature tough-looking black dudes are described as looking as they've “been carved out of obsidian”?

well cliches are cliches because they pop up all the time in life

he says to me: “shannon said you're calling the police on me. You picked the wrong fucking person to play that shit with.”

Me: “Darryl just hold on a sec, i'm on the phone to england i'll talk to you in just a sec-”

Him: 'No man, we need to settle this RIGHT NOW”6

And I tell the person i'm talking to in england that I've got something to take care of, i'll be in touch

I hang up, stand up, and....

TO BE CONTINUED.....

(ha ha, sorry but like I said in the first post -i can't help being overly dramatic!)

---

1 It was at this point I decided I needed to write a blog (or something!). Talking out the whole story made me realise how I needed to get it down as it's, without a doubt, the craziest shit that has ever happened to me. This blog is for me, really. I just thought others might find it entertaining too.

2 I had also had maybe 6 hours sleep in the past 72 hours. And lack of sleep sends you loopy, as Liam Gallagher once kindly demonstrated (he decided to fuck sleep and ended up hospitalising himself). So bear that in mind as events pan out.

3 This means I, crazily, took it to ding dongs with me. What was I thinking??? But, conveniently, it destroys the “pickpocket at ding dongs theory”. Because while I might be able to acknowledge that a pickpocket might just take the cash out of my pocket and return the rest (maybe); a pickpocket who decides NOT to take a $120 nintendo ($150, with mariokart in the slot) simply does not exist on this earth. Ergo, the hater is a member of staff, 100% certain.

4 I quoting this from memory, and so, inevitably, it's paraphrased. But the gist of it is true and real.

5 The complexion of which -and the ancillary stuff to do with it- is the one and only subject i'm not prepared to talk about here.

6 The little chimp I was talking to in england on the phone at the time can verify all this shit is true if ya'll don't believe me.

Return of the Crazybitch

y'know that nutjob i was talking bout in my last post?
well last night she came back to the hostel!
i was hosting my ipod party
and suddenly i saw her sitting there, in the cafe bar
(she is blacklisted remember)
But she hadn't checked in -she was just hanging out there
i think she is fixated on the place -or has nowhere else to go
now before you start feeling sorry for her (because she is mentally ill) just remember she is nasty nasty
a racist and religious bigot
(last time she was here she shared a room with an indian girl, abused her. Abused a south american guest. Abused my sister Soso, who is French-Algerian)
So I have zero sympathy
Anyhow we were expecting trouble, but none came
And it was sleeting so we didn't throw her out either -until she tried to check in
then she was shown the door
But chris reminded me of some of her other crazy antics
Like he and rachel were working the cafebar
rachel was making some sandwiches, chopping onions with a butcher knife
and crazybitch was like "you can't use a knife that big for that. It's illegal. Stop right now or i'm calling the police!"
So rach and chris are obviously nonplussed
She complains about the knife to the front desk too; threatens to call the cops again
crazy crazy
we will be seeing her again, i'm sure
The staff are scared of her tho -trust me, if you could see this person's eyes....
Brrrrr!

Freek City

OK. The next installment of my odyssey is a little complicated, and it's taking me time to write
So in the meantime....

You ever play that video game, Grand Theft Auto?
One of the funniest things in that game -besides the bitch-slapping and cop killing- was the random shit people would say in the street when you bump into them
well, I know now how the game designers at Rockstar did that
They just got someone with a tape recorder to walk down Broadway on a tuesday afternoon

Man, New York is a freaktown! Freeeeekycity!
Seriously, you can't walk a single block without seeing someone who doesn't talk or look crazy1
There are people who walk along talking to themselves, just vocalizing whatever's going through their mind at that particular time into a stream of consciousness gobbledegook:

“thenimgonnaeatsomechickeni'mhungrybutifthatbitchbacktalkstomeonemoretimethenitsoverilltellhergonnawatchthatgametonightfuckingiants-”

I have a pet theory about this -i think if you live in new york too long, with the pace and the sounds of the city at you 24/7, you lose your ability to have a monologue interiure2
the mouth and the brain get fused together!
and then you get people just shouting shit at random in the street
the conspiracy theory nutters who hang around Ground Zero are my personal favorite3
It's one thing to read that shit on the internet, another to have it shouted at you in the street

All kinds of mental casualties get washed up in new york
it's tragic -but it's interesting too
and sometimes they wash up in our hostel
I gotta tell you about this chick who was staying in the hostel a couple of weeks ago
she really was NUTS
she had that dead-eyed look of the insane or the heavily medicated
She was in her 40s too4
and for some reason she got fixated on me!
why do I always attract the crazy ones?5
she was always hanging round the cafe bar when I was working
she actually complained to the dudes at the front desk that there was “something wrong with me” because of my hyperactivity (“bluebottling” sarahfriend calls it -there's a new verb for ya'll!)
and she kept asking if I wanted to “have a talk”
naturally, I demurred ;-)

but my #1 favorite exchange with her was this:

[She sidles up to the counter]

ME: What can I get you?
HER: Coffee.
ME: No problem. You want it black or white?

[She fixes me with this stare]

HER: What do you MEAN by THAT?
ME: Um... do you want milk... or not?

At the time I thought she meant I was offering her a good/evil coffee choice(!)
But I think it was racial
Turned out she was a christian fundamentalist white supremacist frootloop
She racially abused some guests, staff
And was duly shown the door
She'd stayed at jazz and been thrown out before, it transpired
She was on the “blacklist”
The blacklist is an interesting document
Some of the people who've been barred from here!
Like a guy who wasn't even a guest
He just used to come into the cafe bar with some booze, get the guests drunk
Then rob them
Nice
(he ended up being chased down the street by davey with a crowbar)
But my fave is “Rambo”
Rambo was a guest in the summer, before my time
He was just a little wee white guy
But he had a Rambo fixation/obsession
And when I say obsession, I mean:
the headband
the face camouflage
and
oh yeah - he was armed
(armed as in armed-with-a-gun armed)
OMG!
He would go out “on patrol”, some kind of vigilante jag
Just as well no one “pushed” him, huh?
He got his ass arrested, natch

So I find all these crazy people fascinating
Maybe that's wrong but i'm a so-called writer6
That shit is meat and drink to me

I'll keep you posted if we get anymore nutjobs staying here
There's bound to be!


1 This works in your advantage if (like me) you want to indulge a, ahem, pseudo-eccentric dress sense. No one here bats an eye at lil' old me! Also, no one over here thinks I'm gay (which is the usual schtick I get back in england -i think every girl i've ever been out with thought I was gay when they first met me). The only people who ever think i'm gay these days are the gays (they wish!) and other english. Well I got news for you englanders -the english are the gays of the world!
ha ha ha!
Seriously -people from other countries EXPECT you to act camp and foppish. So don't disappoint folks on your travels, y'hear? Dress like a peacock and talk like hugh grant. They lap that shit up.

2 Disclosure: It's stared to happen to me! When i'm out walking my dogs, I find i'm talking bout all kinds of shit to them- whatever's on my mind. Now the dogs don't know what i'm talking about, because they're dogs, so this is technically talking to myself.
I'm going crazy in the coconut!

3 I keep expecting to see Baron there; he believes that shit, and with his unkempt beard and gaffer-taped clothes he'd fit right in. ;-)

4 Always suss when someone 40+ stays at a hostel. Like a few weeks before the crazy lady, there was this guy from england. Jesus christ he took minutes off my life! He was in the throes of a full on mid-life crisis; I think his wife had left him for a younger man (or something).
Man, he was pitiful.
But I might have been more generous in my opinion of him if he hadn't been a colossal perve (he kept making the female members of staff uncomfortable; took sneaky pictures of them, shit like that).
And if he gatecrashed a wedding in central park! WTF?

5 Kidding, past-and-future girlfriends! (Apart from the bitches who fucked me over, obviously. You hos are all crazy as shithouse rats.)

6 I'm finishing one of my so-called stories right now. Watch this space!

Litany of The Fallen

My friend Harold, the "Bronx connection" got fired from the hostel yesterday
i don't know what for, it's still murky, but it's a bit of a shock
it also got me to thinking about all the people who've fallen by the wayside since i started working here
i tell you man, between november and the new year the staff turnover here was nuts
everyone seemed to totally self destruct!

Check this shit out:

Harold -fired
Jayson -fired
Phillipe -fired, rehired, fired
James -fired, rehired, fired
Amanda -fired
Bobby -fired
Steve -disappeared1
Christian -disappeared in the middle of the night2
Rachel -quit
Coco -has quit and been rehired so many times i've lost count3
Kasia -fired

It's like the friggin apprentice man!

And as for lil old me?
You'll have to watch this space and find out....

1 The last I heard of steve he was delivering a jeep, cross country, to LA. And on the way he was delivering a dog (which he described as “rambunctious”) to missouri. He asked me if I wanted to come with -man, I wanted to go so much! Esp after seeing the original manuscript of On The Road in the NYPL. But I had too much going on here. So I hope he's OK and isn't trapped in a snow drift in the rockies or something....

2 Of which more later.

3 In his own words: “I'm bulletproof, nigga!”

Rock Bottom

The Story So Far....

Last time, Dan awoke from a night of drunken, apple martini-fueled toomfoolery to find out that he's had $200 lifted out of his wallet. OMG! What happens next? Read on....

So I wasn't exactly thrilled to find out that i'd been robbed -especially in light of what had been going on over the previous two days.1

In fact I was pretty mad.

I was already sure someone -someone being a member of staff; I was sleeping in the staff basement remember- had lifted the money as I slept.

But here are the alternatives:

1) I had my pocket picked at ding dongs

I definitely had the money when I went to ding dongs, because I bought jane and I some drinks. So someone could have taken the money then. In which case this was the most foolhardy/compassionate pickpocket of all time. The money was taken out of my wallet, and my wallet put back into my coat. Any pickpocket in the world would've just taken the wallet. Why double the chance of getting caught by putting the wallet back? Pretty unlikely (but not, I admit, totally impossible. Just very improbable).

2) I somehow lost the money because I was incredibly drunk

Now, I'm the first to admit I was reeeeeeeeeally drunk that night. But I think we all know our limits as to what we are capable of when we're drunk. Like I know, for example, that I don't get so drunk that I'll black out and come around with blood on my hands. Or i'll wake up the next day with a sore ass and some dude in bed beside me.2 And I definitely know that I don't get so drunk that I throw my money -$200, money i'd thought i'd lost once already that evening- away in some kind of drunken jamboree. No way jose.

3) Bobby took the money when he got my jacket

This was one of the first things that certain people thought when I told them what happened. Now I hadn't known bobby very long -as long as i'd known anyone at the hostel, which is basically a month or so- but we'd become good friends, hung out a lot, same sense of humor, he was a bit older than the others (like me). We had a connection. And I trusted3 him -i wouldn't have sent him to get my jacket if I didn't. So what I said to these people was this: if bobby DID take the money, then i've either befriended somebody who's a sociopath, or has a split personality. In which case, my problems are much, much bigger than $200 dollars getting stolen. I mean we're talking horror movie territory here, right?

So in the light of the above, I'm pretty sure that whoever took the money was someone else who lives in the basement.

I already had some suspicions.

But I talk to my manager, elsie, and I tell her: “Look, I know I was stupid to be carrying that amount of money on me. But that doesn't give me the right to be robbed. So if that money should 'mysteriously reappear' before tomorrow, like should it just show up in the basement, in the kitchen, in the bathroom, anywhere, i'll draw a line under all this. But if not, I'm going to the fucking cops and they can sort it out.”

And after that I was a lot more level headed.

One way or another, I thought, it'll get straightened out

So I went back to work pretty cheery

But something was nagging at my brain

And a hour or so later I realised what it was: “Where is your nintendo DS?”

If it's not in my room, it's in the cafe bar -i tend to be quite free and easy with it, anyone working in the bar can use it, plus guests who're solid.

yeah yeah yeah, I know: i'm asking for it, right?

The DS isn't in the cafe bar.

I check behind the front desk too, just in case: nada

I even go check my room, even though i'm 99% certain I didn't go up there the previous night

Not there.

OK. So now someone has stolen $200 dollars AND my DS???

FUCK. THIS. JOINT.

I go to the manager's office and quit with immediate effect, even though i'm in the middle of a shift

I go up to my room; coco comes after me, but I tell him I don't want to speak to him, to anyone right now.

OK

Let me back-track for a second

After I found out I got the $200 stolen, and perhaps because I was still a little drunk, I tried to call Kim.

Kim is the person i've known for longest in new york, and I felt like I was running thin on friends

but I'd just told her that I didn't want to be her friend no more

ah ha ha ha

so I left this very long and rambling message on her phone saying i'd made a mistake, having a friend I can trust more important to me than a relationship etc etc

I also backed it up with a text:

Maybe we should be friends after all (if you still want). I am running out of mates here. A member of staff has taken $200 out of my wallet. At least I know I can trust you Kim.

To which she replied:

Chin up! Don't panic! What u're going though is called the 'east coast' welcome. Happens 2 the best of us – call u 2nite.

All well and good, right? But after I go back to my room, feeling incredibly low and paranoid, I text her that I think my DS has been stolen too. This is what I get back:

Dan, I'm sorry but a friendship between us is a bad idea. I'm asking you 4 no more contact. Please respect that.

To which I replied:

You don't need this shit! When it's all sorted out and I have a new place with people I trust, then can I give you a call. I'm sorry I turned my back on you kim

This is what I get:

No more test messages, dan -please!!!!!!!4

But because I always need the last word, I send:

OK. This is the last one. I told you: this is my life -the highest highs and the lowest lows. You are best off out of it. Maybe you are right and I shouldn't trust people. Some world, huh? Have a good one kim, never forget you are an amazing person! I really enjoyed our brief time together, shame it had to end this way. Dan

After I send that message, I lie down on my bunk.

I lie there for what seems like a long time.

This is the lowest point i'd ever reached since coming to america.

I feel like i've been shot -the feeling is the same as what I had when I finally got phoebe to confess she'd been cheating on me.5

I feel like everywhere I turn i'm surrounded by liars, backstabbers, and thieves

I decide I should go back to england; even if I don't like the country, at least I know good people there, people whom I love and who love me back

But I decide to go for a walk, get out of the hostel

And I think best when I walk

So I get geared up and get out of there

Just start walking randomly around the upper west side, vaguely heading south, wandering down colombus, broadway, amsterdam

It's a beautiful day -cold but clear

And despite everything, my heart swells when I think about how much I love new york

I fucking love the shit out of this town

And shortly after, I have a “Fuck It!” moment

(A “Fuck It!” moment is when you give the mental finger to whatever's fucking you in the head at that particular time)

I had it with all that Phoebe shit -though that was a couple of months down the line6

This time it happened within hours; perhaps because the timescale was shorter, maybe because of the accelerated NY lifestyle, certainly because of my newly minted NY sass

So I thought:

“FUCK IT!”

Fuck the haters who are robbing from me and backstabbing me -they'll get theirs, by my hand or the divine

Fuck Kim -jesus christ, that was a lucky escape man! Fuck, all this shit started because of her and fucking precious, precious headphones7 And, man, it's not like I wasn't there for her when she was penniless and friendless in the city, but the moment I need something from her, a friendly pair of ears only, she burns me. Fuck her, man!

Fuck the hostel -I can read the signs: all this means I shouldn't be living there no more; I'll get an apartment -kathi was talking about getting a room somewhere we can use as a dog hotel, that could be my apartment!

Dogs I can live with -dogs aren't two faced like people!

And kathi I have faith in, kathi doesn't pay lip service to trust

And there are good people at the hostel, people like chris and coco

And steve and valentina, who saved my ass that morning

Sure, there are haters, at least one anyway

But it's time to separate the shit from the shinola

I know kathi will be out walking the dogs in riverside park, so I head over there to find her

All the time the cogs are turning, I'm scheming, scheming

I don't feel angry or hurt anymore

I feel euphoric

BRING IT ON, MOTHERFUCKERS!

(Find out how dan fights back against the haters next time)

TO BE CONTINUED....

---

1 Please see previous posts From Bad to Worse, The End of the Affair, and From Worse to, Um, Worser if you need a refresher. Chop chop!

2 Despite what some of you may think. ;-)

3 Trust, trust, trust again. The more I think about it, the more the world seems to turn on trust -or lack of it.

4 Seven exclamation marks. SEVEN! And with the added effort of putting exclamation marks into a text too. Someone (I think Terry Pratchett?) once wrote that any more than three exclamation marks is the sign of an unhinged mind....

5 Phoebe, for those who don't know, is a girl I went out with for nearly five years; for the last six months of which she was seeing another guy behind my back, despite swearing to my face she wasn't. And because I, ha ha, trusted her, I believed her. Warts and all people, warts and all....

6 Disclosure: My “Fuck It!” moment with the whole phoebe thing came after another night of insomnia and angst and general gnashing of teeth; I went to my local in Manchester, The Railway, and drank a guinness. I had my notebook with me and was writing some maudlin shit when this great wave came over me, a mix of apathy and anger -though those things sound mutually exclusive, that's what it felt like- and I just thought “FUCK IT!” And I scrawled that into my notebook, again and again, pressing so hard with the pen that the paper ripped. Then I finished my drink, went home and started sorting out my life.

7 Cause and effect, cause and effect: If jayson hadn't taken headphones that didn't belong to him (and if kim hadn't been so precious about them) I wouldn't have got wound up, wouldn't have fallen out with kim, wouldn't have got canned by her, wouldn't have gone out and got obliterated, wouldn't have ended up in staff basement with jane and shannon, wouldn't have got robbed. Phew!

Y'know what? I think it's about time we wrote kim out of this story -it's doing my head in! A couple of days later I sent this to her:

Hey I want my maus book back asap and the $50 you owe me

So she sent:

Gimme your address I will mail it and make that your last text. I mean it. I'm not fucking around anymore. This is the last time i'm going 2 tell u.

So I sent this [and bear in mind I was pretty mad -in fact i'm kind of ashamed of it now, but I got carried away, and the writer in me wanted to pen the ultimate bridge-burner text. And I wanted to be sure there could be no chance of a reconciliation of any kind: kim is a beguiling person; she's beautiful and talented.

But I should have been listening to my subconscious here, and it's not like it gave me a subtle hint; I once wrote it into a story: beauty and talent are cheap as spit.]

Here's the text:

Don't worry kim I showed your texts to my friends and they gave me a reality check: you are not an 'amazing person' you are fucked in the head. Go see a shrink if you are not already, or get a better one. [then I give the hostel address]. Have a nice life but I don't think you will: horrible people get the life they deserve. You had the chance for something good with me but you blew it big style. Think about that next time [NAME WITHHELD] offers to pay half your cab fare for his booty call, or you have to deal with the train wreck that is [NAME WITHHELD]'s life, or your fighting with the next guy who treats you like shit. But seriously -get help. You need someone to doctor your head or you'll end up lonely bitter twisted and filled with regret. Dan

That was a five page (five page!) text. Told you I got carried away. She probably didn't even read it either, but I think now it was more for my benefit than hers.

Still: Feel the flame!

(NB. At the time of writing she has still not returned my book or my money, and I ain't holding ma breath....)

Reasons Why I Love New York #479

Let me just take a brief pause in the narrative to tell ya'll bout something that happened in our neighborhood the other day
I've told just about everybody who'll listen what a safe place new york is (manhattan anyway)
I think i've mentioned in this blog somewhere how it's the safest place I've ever lived
Well, a few days ago a member of staff, Judith, got mugged, just round the corner from the hostel on 105st
It happened in broad daylight too, 12 o'clock in the afternoon
It was some black dude; he pushed her to the ground, took her ipod
Pretty shitty right?
But here's what happened next
Two guys from the neighborhood -a couple of latino guys, complete strangers to Judith- saw what happened and chased after the mugger
They chased him for a couple of blocks and tackled him to the ground
Then they basically sat on him while other folks from the neighborhood called the cops
They restrained him till the police got there
judith got her ipod back there and then
Can you imagine that shit going down in London? Manchester?
I don't think so: "not my business"
(and i don't recall anyone coming to my aid when those two scallies tried to mug me in broad daylight that time)
And get this, after the cops got there, they frisked the guy... and he was packing heat!
Yup, the dude had a gun on him
So lets hear it for the heroes of 105 st!
Man it's crazy: seems like in new york complete strangers have got your back -it's the people you know who stick the knife in it....