This is the shit I’ve had to deal with growing up in this industry.
I was 18 and working in a spot in Carytown in Richmond VA and went out for a smoke late one night. Our dishwasher was a crackhead. I mean literally a CRACKHEAD. He smoked crack like me and the rest of the guys smoked grass and didn’t give a fuck. After sitting outside in silence for several minutes smoking and not saying a word, he turned and looked at me as calmly as someone asking for a lighter and asked me
” Have you ever fucked something and not known what it was?”
I took a final drag off of my smoke, flicked it and walked back inside, scared, shocked and confused.
I don’t really think there’s a right way to answer that. No matter how you respond it’s going to lead into a conversation that at 18, I wasn’t ready to have with a crackhead. It’s not something I would like to do now but after all of these years, I have to wonder. Did he wake up and go to the fridge and wasn’t sure if it was cream cheese or ricotta? Was he confused on the difference between a honeydew melon and a cantaloupe? What the hell was it ?!?!?!?
Plot twist
Believe it or not, I ran into the guy about eight years ago when I was back in Richmond
I was sitting out back smoking and sweating on a hot Sunday afternoon in late August. I couldn’t believe it was him at first but he recognized me and said hello. I was more shocked by the fact that he was still alive then by the original question. Turns out the guy had gotten clean a few years before and had his shit together.
I was a little nervous but I had to tell him the story of that night. He laughed and was thankful. He said from time to time that he needed to be reminded how bad things were so that he didn’t slip back into the nightmare. It was hard to imagine that he was the same guy from before, he was standing upright and he had life in his eyes. I shook his hand and told him I was happy as hell to see he was doing well since if this guy can turn his life around anyone can.