Home Pop Culture Conversations with a Crack Whore.

Conversations with a Crack Whore.

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Linda is as girl that used to live on my street, or to be succinct used to hang around my street. Of course I too no longer live on that street, but was reminded of her the other day when I was walking through Hipsterville or to precise Kent and South 1st, Brooklyn, NY. For those of you who braved Willamsburg in the late 90’s and even the early 2000’s girls like Linda were a dime a dozen. Of course the girls who were buying ‘dimes’ have now been replaced with the girls buying $4 lattes and the look of glamour grit and urban myth. The look may be one thing, but the reality is another and as much as being poor and sniffing and drinking are the acceptable high in a certain nouveau society the smoking and the shooting up was also and still is acceptable in certain other parts of society.

According to Linda, to support her habit would require servicing a number of guys during the course of the day. For a blow job she would take at least $40, straight sex – $80 and for anal add another $50. How I came to know these prices wasn’t because I was looking to get it on with Linda, it was more that Linda was trying to drum up business and when you are prone to taking long summer evening walks at 4am nothing should strike you as too out of the ordinary.

One time a few years ago while going along one of those cursory walks I came across Linda running at me, crack pipe in one hand and blood running down the other side of her face. When you live in a city like NYC, your first impulse is to look the other way and pretend that nothing is happening. Instead I stopped and tried to make sense of this woman’s sudden madness. At first I couldn’t make out what she was saying but then I got the jist that some ‘john’ had gotten rough on her and she had run for her life with half his shit still in her hand.

So there I am wiping this woman’s blood down her face when she asks if I’d like to go take a hit with her in the alley. It’s kind of like meeting people you occasionally see out and having one of them offer to take you out in the back of one of the bathrooms to do a couple of lines with, but it’s not. Although both of them are cocaine based, one snorted, the other cooked up pure and smoked and a much more pulverizing high they are very far removed from each other. Removed because one of them will inevitably find itself in the handbag of one of the pleasure seeking hedonistic girls who are now flocking to the neighborhood and the other frowned on because you have to resort to ‘blowing’ strange guys’ dicks to get through your habit.

As Linda took out one of the dimes she had just ripped off from her john (it is of course common habit for a john and the ‘ho’ to smoke while servicing as a result of the intense high that comes on) and begins carefully stuffing it on her life support system I am wondering what this all means and how a society already stocked with as many legal drugs that you can so easily get your hands on is not at all bothered by the comings of goings of a rampant drug culture. We were inventing more drugs and getting people to listen more about the dangers of drug abuse and yet here we are every few weeks reading about people like Michael Jackson and Billy May o.d-ing on legal drugs as well as people like Dash Snow doing their head in on illegal drugs.

Doing her head too was Linda, watching her take her hit while I smoked a Marlboro light today must have seemed like madness on my part but there is a certain rush for madness to watching some woman whose blood you have just wiped away taking a hit on the side of what was then a deserted road at four thirty in the morning.

Listening to her start talking about her life must have been like watching some troubled young starlet talk about their addiction to pain killers, the occasional blow and their desire to beat their ‘curse.’ In one way that’s a reality show, but what I was getting there was hard core reality and not the type that some Hollywood producer was about to glamorize unless of course there was the sudden rush of cop cars making the impending arrest.

Linda from memory had her own particular drama, no-  she wasn’t a world famous musician, star who couldn’t keep up with all the terrible press, nor was she a well paid ad salesman on TV nor the grand daughter of a well connected grandfather whose legacy she couldn’t bear. She was simply some woman who having arrived through life and it’s disappointments had somehow stumbled upon her particular let downs and her way of dealing with those let downs…

By the second hit she was telling me how as a young woman (she wasn’t smoking it back then but occasionally snorting it at a girlfriend’s house) she was set to marry a young man she had met through her family- a fierce loving family that had emigrated from St Juan Peurto Rico in the 50’s who Linda except for her only brother hadn’t seen in the last ten years. Anyway, there she was,  all dressed in white waiting at the church house waiting for her shining white armor to claim her. For some reason he never showed up at the church nor the next day after. He had suddenly gotten cold feet and 15 years later there’s Linda stooped on her ankles, the most deranged look on her face and me smoking a Marlboro light with my handkerchief with her blood on it and her remembering that very moment.

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  • I read some of this. I wanna tell my crack story. I vowed never to do it. And I have not. But I get involved with it a lot. I dance with other drugs. But Crack. Rilly might be the worst. I axed a random dealer. Not so random actually. But in a way. All dealers are random. At the end of hellraiser: Bad Guy said something like: JESUS WEPT … That quote. Is a drug dealer: A random fucking quote in a movie that made, makes and is making, even to this fucking day… not a clue inSin of a scent-Sense. Random. Drug dealers have a randomness to them that makes them appear stupid. A drug dealer’s fear of the Police for example: Is a parody that is in their minds; being a Celebrity… convincing themselves Sane,.. Roleplaying isNt random or stupid at all. Lotta people think LARPing is Gay. Infact; one might even call LARP the last rite left for the word Gay in conjunction with it not being perpendicular to homosexuality. LARP is an anagram for Live-Action-Role-Playing. Rarely are swords nigger elves, the dwarf, mummies, dragons, dungeons, a lich, ghosts, wraiths, phantoms and gold as a currency: Not, I say, yes negatively: Rarely are these Not involved. You don’t ever roll dice. You dress up. You don’t gather round. You exist in a fantasy world with scale models. Reality is real. Drug dealers are LARPs in a way. Why is it whenever I mention crack they go crazy. I mean nuts. “Stay the fuck away from that shiggity shit…” (I read a horrifying statistic that; among turning all gray hairly; I also became baffled; which if ya think aboot[french canadain? why the fuck not] it, to be scared to the point of yer hair turning another color, and! also to be baffled which, is more of a mind puzzle that gets inside the brain head, makes you think like, like a digging worm, think think think, which; if you think about it all, as I’ve been trying to make you do, is well; not really think but like, Dig… see… each line, we get deeper to the levels of which we were… that, I think they invented books for the reasoning that we start: after 400 words: to go up again; ever 5 minutes or so, [but sometimes depending on the drug I’m on, like; few days ago it took me 20 minutes to read a page! Ha… ha hahahahha … definitely not on CRACK there… no no no…] but, to Scared Red and; no: …. wait: To be Scared Gray(better) and to be baffled is a rare thing indeed; like a LARP without a fuckin bastard Sword and whatnot… That: here it is: what got me so GAGA; IS THIS: a statistic that claims that of the 1000 billionaires in this world, that, when applied to the internet… Billionaires do and Does and Did and do again… Some pretty fucking weird things on the net… Things you just wouldn’t expect. They are in the germs of the internet. The slugs of the earth. Since they have won in the real world, unreality to them seems fascinating: What do they? Well… This… This kind of talk. On random websites. Like. God nose who websites like bee dogs dot calm or something like that… but… billionaires exist in the dust of chat sites via One Word of a One Phrase like thang… places like youtube… or ebay? They’ll ax questions or state the obvious… I thought they’d do stuff with their time in the internet world but I guess It makes sense… ) No see! My crack story. That is. It almost happened once but I swear I never did it but I did lie to a friend whom, as I was NOT about to do it, I told my friend, in a textly way, that; alas I did it… and, in the text world: Perhaps I did? … but anyway I got some for my rich friend and as a gift he she it whatever the hell it is… got me some of whatever the hell wanted. I watch the Crack happen. The Doer did not offer me any. And so. As a result. I axed for some. I like the Industrial aesthetic of a Professional Crack smoker’s arsenal… If they have money… (praise thee LEE STRINGER) then, with that money they can buy things that make crack look somewhat interesting… first in their silent demeanor after they do it… It’s not just some god damn whirlwind! No. The master… if good… Is silent and smart… Looking only when seen. Speaking only when lonely… Low and sad and On crack: High… Hi for a reason. So. I was this too and axed for some but, I wasn’t given any not because, the person in question didn’t want me to become a Fiend because: It could happen to me… Maybe so It could of if I had done it once… But. Crack: Really good Crack, is really fucking hard to get in NYC right now so… the TRUTH is… it’s not that I didnt do it… It DID Not WANT TO DO me! ___uoyroftotnsisiht

  • adam

    Crack, society, wants, needs, desires and keeping up with the people who are keeping up…seem’s to me, that once you’ve experienced some failure, some loss, and some addiction, you have some choices to make. (It’s all about the choices we make, right)? Coming down and re-creating yourself after the fall requires you to get low, and get humble…learn to live simple, until you are well enough to start making better decisions. Most people have difficulty coming to terms with the voice in their head that tells them that their OK now, after 2 months clean, and going back to their old lifestyle…acting different. Same with what you wear on your wrist, drive, and must have because of what he/she/they have. I think its all about growing up and realizing what you “want” and what you “need”….knowing the difference and balance.

    I really enjoyed your take on crack, society, the media, and the selling of “the dream” …all that material wealth we’re respected for, everybody wants their piece.

    Bottom line, I’m guilty, and also feel lucky to live in this country vs wherever, and try to stay humble.

    Peace, and sorry for the poor writing skills…just talking.

    Adam

  • Stoopind

    Can I say ” Crime and Punishment ” or ” Les Miserables “, I guess our society has not changed much since we thought out to become more civilized or perceive it that way anyway.
    Thought — the antibiotics and aspirin are quite useful.
    Can I say that it’s good for society to experiment, at least there is a chance for a lucky accident. However this is all quite sad especially when it’s personal.
    No comment on the media.

  • Kristen May

    ts a tragic reality. I’ve known to many people who suffer from the disease of addiction. Thank you for posting this. Because it is the truth. It disgusts me that the media can glamorize drugs,the lifestyle of someone like Dash Snow…I wish the media would paint a more truthful picture about this illness then perhaps the world would be a lil less fucked up.

  • yes, but one does wonder if society metaphorically speaking smokes a more lethal version of crack?

  • blaah

    Crackwhores smoke crack. What else is new?