“Ball so hard, this shit crazy”
It was a money-draining party and I had a blast.
Heart Of Douche-ness or “The Imperialism Of Young Assholes”
Take up the White Mans Burden, Hipsters. Conquer the middle class with your bougie contempt and self-loathing fashion. But don’t complain when you’re branded the enemy.
EULA, Life Size Maps & More at Shea Stadium
Five great bands at a Friday show in Shea Stadium.
Silent Barn Public Meeting Tomorrow
Panelists gather to discuss All Ages venues, with some necessary rocking out.
alt-J at Glasslands
Lead singer Joe Newman asked us to sweat with him and we did.
Confession: I Saw My Drug Dealer’s Sex Tape
Growing up in the early ‘90s, my artist turned social worker father worked with junkies and prostitutes who lived in a residence for people with AIDS a few blocks from our renovated tenement building on New York’s Lower East Side. Though Dad tried to separate his kids from his clients, the derelict streets around me and the stories he told of interviewing crackheads over family dinners we had every night at 6pm wound into my young world. I loved Tuna Casserole with crunchy Lays potato chips on top and tales of women stuffing their shirts with stuffed animals to appear pregnant so they could get more money to score Heroin. An eight year-old who read alone for hours, I was also fiending for an escape.
By the time I turned 19, I was a college drop out, who lived back with my parents, hiding handles of Jim Beam behind my bed pillows and snorting coke. My shrink Dad and neuropsychologist Mom were able to solve their client’s depression and addiction problems, but faced with their own son’s decline, they were powerless. I wanted them to fix me on their couch, instead they kicked me out of their home.
Cecelia, my old high school girlfriend, was frantically looking for a roommate. Though Cecelia lived in a dimly lit railroad apartment in a bad Brooklyn neighborhood, I hoped being in close quarters with the girl who had once broken my heart would heal whatever was left of it.
“I know it’s sort of hood here, but when we were growing up, Manhattan wasn’t so safe either. If we stick together, we’ll be fine,” Cecelia assured me. But I was hungry for drugs, coping with the streets around me the same way my father’s old clients had.
“Just walk up, shake your tits a little and ask.” I shoved Cecelia towards a group of teens hanging out on the stoop opposite ours.
“Can’t you do it?” she stalled.
I watched as Cecelia giggled and flirted with a tall boy who still had some baby fat. They exchanged a handshake and she rushed back excitedly with a big bag of weed.
Because of Cecelia’s block reputation as “hot white girl with the bubble butt,” we became fast friends with Chubbs, a pudgy nineteen year-old drug dealer. Chubbs had grown up on the block and everyone knew him. He lived with his mom across the street, but was otherwise secretive about his life. Sometimes when he was stoned he’d reminisce about the one time he had visited the Dominican Republic.
“We slept outside by the beach, yo. It was mad dark, no electricity, nothing. I could only hear the waves.”
He was a street celebrity who looked out for us. Within weeks I was downing 40 oz. bottles of Colt45 and slurring in Spanish to the middle-aged woman at my corner bodega. She winked at me and sold me bootleg packs of Marlboro Reds for $5.00 with a green Republica Dominica stamp on the side. Chubbs’ limelight spread to Cecelia and me and I felt so safe I let down my guard and found myself feeling like a ghetto superstar.
Chubbs started coming over more constantly. He never touched cocaine, but he had good, cheap $20 grams and he always got Cecelia and me stoned, letting us sample his blow too.
I shaved my head and put lines through my eyebrows. Chubbs came over and I helped him weigh and bag ounces of dry weed into Ziploc bags with Scooby Doo print on them. I felt cut off from everyone, but at least I was a part of something. Drinking from a jug of Carlo Rossi with Tony Yayo rapping on my stereo and Chubbs taking phone calls from desperate junkies I felt hardened enough to not need my parents for awhile.
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