I just got home, I’ve been home for about two days now and I got to go back to work on Monday, the first Monday of 2016. And it feels like Sunday, I have to keep reminding myself that it is Saturday.
I went to Washington State over my Christmas break, I even took a week to do so. I’ve been saving vacation time at work the whole year in case this would happen, and it did. So I got paid for being 1,300 hundred miles away.
I’m not really going to sit here and bore you with details that you would not really care about.
Friday, Christmas night, my friend Dmitry came to pick me up, after getting lost. My parents live in another town, connected to 4 other town that connect to the town where I used to live. So he got lost and after talking to my dad on the phone he finally showed up.
A few minutes prior to this I was waiting at my house for Eric to get done with the family dinner, but they take forever to eat so by the time I looked at my phone to read a text message that said, “Hey brah, we just got done eating.”
I simply typed back, “Fo shizzle my nizzle whizzle dizzle.” After sending that message I go onto type another one, “Just go to Jay’s man, Dmitry is going to pick me up…and don’t forget to get beer, I’ll pay you back in cash.”
As I’m sitting in Dmitry’s car I get another text message after Dmitry told me the story I was expecting to, but didn’t want to, hear.
“Hey man, go get some beer.”
“I thought you already did.”
“Yea, but I think we need more.”
“Dmitry wont or can’t drink”
“Fuck it, get some more.”
We pulled up to as gas station and he ran into get a 18 pack of MGD. As we pull up I look at him to say, “Man, I don’t want to feel like I’m making you do something you can’t do.”
“I’m not drinking it bro, just chill.”
When we were driving toward my other friends house, before stopping at the gas station, Dmitry told me something, something that to be honest didn’t catch me off guard. Nonetheless it was something I was not proud of, something that I thought he learned the first time.
“I got another DUI bro.”
With a smirk to my face as if I was disappointed I said, “Yea, I figured.”
He then goes onto tell me that he passed out behind the wheel and ran into trees which flipped his 1994 SUV. He also informed me that he was wearing one of those ankle bracelets that detect alcohol. And for extra measure he added, I can’t even smoke either.
Not like I was planning on smoking pot anyways, but I guess he felt like he needed to put that out there.
He spent some time in jail and was telling me all the stuff about how bad it was and how he will never do it again. He is one of my best friends and all I can do at this point is hope that he means it. In the back of my head I kept thinking, “Yea, that’s what you told me the first time.” I hope he learned this time, I really do. But that’s all I can do, hope. I’m 1,300 miles away now, I can’t save him from himself, and even then I’m not his mother. He is 32, he should know better by now.
Atleast no one else was harmed in the process. I’m also glad I didn’t lose a friend.
We finally showed up to my other friends house and hung out in the game room for awhile.
Fast forward a few minutes and I’m sitting out back with Jay’s son, I’m drinking a beer and smoking a cigarette while he is asking me about my life, my job, Nebraska, so on and so forth.
While this is going on Jay, Eric, and Dmitry are in the garage. Jay and Eric are drinking beer and whiskey while Dmitry is drinking Canada Dry.
I’m the fist one back inside. As I’m sitting on the couch staring at four TVs-one on the pause screen of Fallout 4, one playing Mythbusters back to back, with two of his three kids playing Xbox on their own TVs-Eric comes back inside, drunk off his ass, and falls onto the seat right next to me and looks at me and says, “Hey Daniel, you want to talk about Heroin.”
“No I do not want to talk about Heroin,” I had a look on my face as if I was saying, “What the fuck! Why the fuck would you…what would even make you ask me that.”
I eventually put it together. As much as I saw it coming I didn’t want it to.
Back when I lived in Washington, Eric lived in Colorado for a two or three year period. He came to visit and I found out that he had a friend in Colorado that could get a hold of Oxycontin. When I found this out I remember thinking to myself, “Man, stop it dude.”
But the last thing I thought he would have done was Heroin.
“Back when I was living in Colorado, towards the end of it, I was a Heroin addict.”
I just sat there and starred at him, I didn’t know what to do.
Jay was in the room at the same time and popped into the conversation and said, “You’re glad you lived in Nebraska when Eric moved back.”
Eris looked the same as I remember him, the only difference was facial hair. He looked very good, standing at five foot ten and weighing in at 170 pounds.
“When Eric came back he was down to about 105 pounds, his skin was the same shade as masking tape, and he looked as if he didn’t cut or maintain his hair for about half of a year.”
Eric and Jay go onto a side conversation and part of me was listening to them talk about Eric detoxing from Heroin and how violent and sick he became. The other part of me was glad that I never stopped to see Eric in Colorado on my way from Washington to Nebraska.
That…I don’t know if I would have been able to mentally comprehend that. Of any drug, the one that I was hoping he would not do would have been heroin.
As much as I saw it, I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to so much, that I convinced myself that it would never happen.
If I were to have seen him in his junkie stage I would of most likely cried because I would want to make a knee jerk reaction and never talk to him again, but at the same time understood that Eric is a good guy and we had some fun time together.
Based on how he look now a days, this information is not going to stop him from being my best man.
I just do not know how I would have handled that.
And I got to go now, I made this post way longer then I was expecting.
I spent about another 7 days in Washington after that, I even got all of my music back. Now I just got to sit in front of my computer and figure out what I have and what I got and merge them together without creating tow copies of the same album.
Other than watching The Rams kick the shit out of my Seahawks I had a pretty good trip.
It could have been better, but at the same time could have been much worse.
Shout out to everyone living in the 253, you’re awesome.
And no, I did not edit this so… if you find a word or something that is misspelled or misused well, whatever. I’ll fix it at some point, hopefully.