Friday afternoon story time with MLWOO (7/25/08)

It is sad when people do drugs. I had 4 or 5 really good friends in middle school. I didn't go to high school with any of them but I stayed in touch with one in particular. His name was John. Great guy. Really smart.

When he got to high school he started smoking a lot of pot. Pot turned into acid. Acid turned into all kinds of weird stuff. Still I was friends with him. I never thought it was a problem. He traded in his red Mustang GT for a VW hippie bus when he was a sophomore. He started wearing homemade clothes. He started not showering. I was still friends with him.

We go away to college. He went to some hippy commune school in North Carolina where they grew there own food and pot or whatever. I went to A&M and joined a fraternity. Different worlds.

Spring Break comes around and I haven't talked to him the whole school year. I call his cell phone because my parents were out of town and I was having a party. His cell phone is disconnected. Literally five seconds after I try to call him, I get a call on my home phone from him. It was pretty creepy. He tells me he doesn't believe in cell phones anymore but was glad to talk to me. He sounded kinda weird. I invite him over because he was in town.

He shows up with one of his friends that I don't know that well but is also into drugs. I go outside in my backyard with him while he smokes a cig. He starts blathering about spirits that control everything and how life is in constant motion and all this weird spiritual crap that could only come out of a druggy's mouth.

Me: "Dude, are you okay?"

Him: "Yah, man. Thanks for the counseling session."

He walks inside. I go up to his friend and ask what the hell is going on.

His friend: "Dude, he showed up at my house like 3 days ago and he thinks he got here this morning. He's been popping xan bars and lorazepam likes it candy. He making a mess of my house, yelling at my parents, just sleeping and layying around messed up all day. My parents told me to get him out of the house. I brought him over here because I knew you would help me with him."

This is great. I have about 50 people at my house. I have a druggy that's been wigging out that needs a sane's person's help. This sucks.

His friend and I talk for awhile and he tells me more about the drugs John has been doing recently. The kid needed rehab. We made a decision together to call his parents who moved to Reno, NV after he went to college.

You have to understand something about John's parents: He owns them. They believe any word he says. I call his dad. Talk to him. He is very concerend. John learns of our plan somehow and gets the phone from me. John convinces his dad that I am drunk and irrational and his other friend is on drugs and we're the ones that need rehab. Okay. I finally convince him that he needs to fly to Houston and get John.

John starts freaking out and taking more pills. His friend grabs his pill bottle from him in my living room. John starts swinging. I get three of my football friends from high school to help pin him down. He is yelling, cursing, starts exposing himself and will not calm down for about 20 mintues. I tell his friend to get him the hell out of my house.

They go outside and his friend starts yelling at him. He opens the pill bottle and throws them on the street. John goes and picks up every one of the pills and eats them right there. Probably about 8-10 of them. Then they get in a fist fight and I have to break it up.

They leave.

I'm asleep. I get a call at 830am. It's John's friend. "Dude, John pretended to be asleep last night and snuck out of my house. I just picked him up downtown. He had hitchhiked to fifth ward and was smoking crack with bums all night. A bum tried to get in the car with me and I had to pay him 10 dollars to go away. Then John started yelling at me after I picked him up so I dropped him off on the side of I-10. Will you call his dad?"

His dad had a flight that morning and wasn't in town yet. I called him when he was at the Reno airport and he said he would be in around 1. I told him what happened with his other friend. His dad was pissed. He called another one of my good friends from middle school's parents that had gotten into drug dealing since then. The old friend goes and picks up John.

It's about 2pm or so. My front door opens. John walks in. He acts like he is going to try to beat me up then sees a friend that is still at my house with me. He hands me a brown paper sack, like the ones you put tall boys in. It has a death threat written on it. It has this long incoherent letter telling me I am F'ed and to look over my shoulders and stuff. It was creepy. It was scrbbled all over and even had stuff written on the inside of the bag.

I grab him and throw him out of my house and see my other old friend from middle school. He stares me down.

I am really scared and advise my parents not to stay there when they came back in town. I went and stayed at my grandmothers.

Anyways it passed. I have not spoken to John since that. It was about 5 yrs ago. I saw his friend and he has talked to John but said he convinced his parents not to put him in rehab and is still all messed up. He really was one of my best friends.

 

HAHA. I know I'm sorry. I got like 10 emails from that. I'm getting through them slowly. I promise it will come.

 

John is that you?

I've missed you. Hope you're doing okay.