Needle Too (14 page)

I cannot begin to describe how overcome with disappointment Rob and
especially
Jamie were at the prospect of suddenly not going to Long Island for the summer. As a matter of fact, as far as Jamie was concerned, the whole Southampton gig was just a convenient and timely excuse for laying down more permanent roots in the city and doing the starving artist thing for a while.

“Well then you know what?” I said to them as I think I saw a teardrop forming in the left eye of the little girl. “Let’s just spend the summer in the city instead. It won’t be Southampton money but it’ll still be way better than anything happening down here for a while.”

Well now it was on. Now it was in my
head
. Certainly, not in my head like it was before in an unaddressed, obscure and intangible way, but now it was
out in the open
in my head. Yes, indeed, now the picture was finally forming as the colors were being added and the details were emerging. The script was written. The characters were in place. The show was about to begin.

17

On June 2
^nd
it was hot out there. The
weather
—I mean. I was amazed at how big the ensuing summer sun had become as it now always seemed to be directly over my head while every morsel of moisture was systematically sucked out of me.

In the blistering Florida heat Rob and I filled a large U-Haul with Jamie’s life, and about 30 hours later we were in Manhattan. The Hamptons contingent had arrived in Long Island about a week earlier, and after Rob and Jamie dropped me off at the West Side Inn to secure a room before continuing on to a storage facility in the Bronx, I met up with Perry right in front of the hotel and was then provided with the exact same room we lived in a couple years earlier. Then, after a bit of nostalgic reminiscing about the past six years of indiscretion we immediately scored at the nearby Columbus Avenue spot that a medical school junky introduced me to back in 1995. But that would be the last time I’d see Perry for several months, and when Rob and Jamie returned to the hotel four hours later he was already gone and I was lying in bed deeply tucked away in a remarkably snug nod.

While I pretended to be asleep I could tell that although Rob was fine with the accommodations, Jamie was a little less than thrilled with the fact that all three of us would be sharing a single bed in a single room with a bathroom in the hallway. But since I snorted the dope it really didn’t matter what she thought. I was unfazed by her discontent. I was already in selfish junky-mode and it suddenly felt like I was on vacation.
A vacation from sobriety
. Well, not sobriety
exactly
, but sobriety in relation to doing dope. Regardless, I’d already decided that I would remain fucked-up for the duration of the summer, and in no way did I consider it a relapse in the way that I’d relapsed in Connecticut. THAT was a
real
relapse. THAT was a relapse with no end to the fun in sight. THAT relapse occurred while I was living at my mother’s with no serious
intention of getting out of Dodge, while THIS was a TEMPORARY and COMPLETELY different situation. THIS was really just ONE LAST HURRAH. And though I couldn’t afford to get arrested as a fugitive from justice with a two-year-old bench warrant hanging over my head, I worked my magic and conjured up a brand of self-serving logic based on the law of averages, my history of arrests and my expected duration in the city and decided I stood about a 13% chance of being captured. Soon, however, that percentage would be whittled away to just about zero.

The following day I decided to visit St. Marks Pizza near St. Mark’s and Astor Place and though it no longer exists—
here was clearly the greatest pizza that ever lived
. I then wandered around the block and into Around The Clock and was immediately hired as a WAITER at this trendy 24-hour diner. And of course, as the newest employee I was offered the graveyard shift, which I really had no objection to and I’m glad I didn’t because it even further reduced my chances of getting busted.

Each morning at around 8 a.m. I’d leave the diner with a pocket full of cash and head directly to 106
^th
Street and Columbus Avenue—two blocks from the West Side Inn—where the dealers would just be coming out of the woodwork to service the 9 to 5 clientele looking to get straight before heading into work, or perhaps just to prepare themselves for the day ahead. Of course, as far as I was concerned, dope had always been an after-school activity and these days school ended as breakfast began. Consequently, right around the time I was stepping out of work and getting ready to score—the cops were stepping in to Krispy Kreme and getting down to business. As a result, my freedom was never in question.

It was all so very convenient and inexpensive. I woke up, ate, went to work, scored, got high, nodded off, fell asleep, woke up again and began the cycle anew. And though within a week Jamie seized an opportunity to rent a room being offered by a new co-worker whose roommate was in California for the summer, lodging was
still entirely affordable as Rob remained behind at the West Side Inn and assumed half the cost of the accommodation. What’s more is that after I sent him to Serendipity with Bill Sorvillo’s name to throw around as a reference he was hired on the spot and scheduled to work days. Consequently, each morning as he was setting out for Serendipity I was returning home from Around The Clock, and then once his shift concluded he’d usually be socializing with coworkers until after I headed out to work the graveyard. As a result we were on completely opposite schedules and practically NEVER saw each other, so we both essentially lived alone but still enjoyed the cost-effectiveness of having a roommate to share the rent with.

For about four months or 119 days my routine went unchanged, and to be quite honest I’m not sure I was ever happier. I had a decent job, a decent place to live and the most fantastic roommate I never saw. I was snorting or shooting two bags of dope a day like clockwork, without the burden of a band or the threat of an arrest or aspiration to get in the way. From a junky’s perspective I HAD IT ALL, and as far as any future hope of recovery was concerned, I was fortunate for being acutely aware of the extreme singularity of my situation. I knew that as much as I would’ve loved for this to go on forever, the stars would only be aligned for so long. Eventually, Rob would be leaving and the fun would have to end because I could never afford to live there as a junky—unless of course I could find another roommate on opposite schedules to share the rent with…
and I definitely thought about it
.

Aside from the fact that I was probably happier and more content than I’d ever been in my entire life, that summer was of little note. Oasis released an album that I enjoyed in spite of the singer, Princess Di was tragically killed in a horrific car accident, and Matt Dillon made my miserable life a little more miserable by behaving badly in the wrong place at the wrong time.

At around 4 a.m. every Saturday and Sunday, Around The Clock would fill to capacity with drunk and sweaty twenty-something clubbers coming in from Webster Hall. On one early Sunday
morning in particular, as plates of pancakes and bacon began to fly around the dining room at dangerous speeds, my station—which consisted of about ten small tables situated in a very cramped, triangular-shaped space at the front of the restaurant—quickly filled to capacity with mostly women along with a very lucky Mr. Matt Dillon, who’d apparently been carrying on that evening without the company of his girlfriend, Cameron Diaz.

He flitted about my overstuffed station with unrestrained entitlement, and as he chatted-up chicks he strutted around almost as if he’d come in entirely alone, though he MUST have been with
someone
. Whoever it was, however, was lost in the blazing glare of Matt’s white-hot celebrity, so by exclusion I’m certain his famous girlfriend wasn’t also in attendance else I’m certain I would’ve burst into flames.

For about an hour Matt was either completely oblivious to my plight, didn’t quite grasp the nature of my position or simply didn’t care, as he was either a moving obstacle making rounds to women in my station or stretched out in his own space with his legs across the aisle like he was relaxing at the fucking beach. And I know he sensed my agitation once or twice as he made a snide comment but I simply didn’t have time to provide him with a thoughtful response. Of course, in retrospect, I’m thankful I didn’t as the public venting might have dampened my lingering fury later that afternoon and prevented a special strain of spitefulness that can only be tapped into by tapping a vein. So, a couple of hours later I got loaded and contacted the gossip pages of the New York Post to inform them of how Matt behaves when his girlfriend isn’t looking, which—as expected—they were only too eager to hear and within a day or so the news was printed on Page Three. Of course, it wasn’t long before I read that for some unknown reason Matt was suddenly single again—and I can tell you that was a HELL of a lot more rewarding than the 10% he left me on $36.50.

18

At the end of September my respite from responsibility, recovery and life itself was rapidly coming to a close. Rob had recently left the city for Michigan to visit family while Jamie stayed in Manhattan to pursue her dream, and Perry—who had remained on Eastern Long Island for the entire summer—was now heading out even further east…to
China
. He’d recently met Shelly—a young graduate student who was in the midst of completing her doctoral requirements in Hong Kong—so he’d be spending the fall and the better part of the winter lying on the beach and living off grant money while she completed her thesis. So, on October 4
^th
I once again purchased two bottles of methadone and boarded a Greyhound bus heading south.

I decided to take advantage of an invitation to stay with Amy because it was my only option. Of course, it certainly didn’t have to be this way. During the summer and over the course of 119 days and 238 bags of dope I spent exactly $2,380 on drugs and about $100 on works. So instead of having a decent amount of money in my pocket to get a new footing and a fresh start I had about seventy-five bucks, some methadone and no sense of direction or how to proceed with the future. After all, although I wrote the songs—Perry charted the course, and now with the situation and outlook so completely different I was at a loss and felt a little like I was flying a plane in the dark because there was no contingency plan for any of this. For the better part of a decade Perry and I were convinced of a destiny that was clearly false and now I finally had no choice but to come to terms with that as well as sobriety and somehow make it work. But when the meth wore off the need to be high on something revealed itself once again and I would once again satiate the need with weed.

Just prior to leaving Florida in June, Amy and I began a very casual, remotely intimate relationship and when I returned in
October I believe she had some expectation for that to continue. I was mostly ambivalent about it, however, and my interest in her as anything other than a friend rapidly began to wane as the days passed and November approached. It wasn’t long before we realized we were completely incompatible as a couple and decided to keep each other company until next summer, at which point she would permanently return to Jupiter, Florida where she was originally from, and I would probably try to reconnect with Perry and figure out what to do next. In the meantime, however, I spent my days working lunches at a local restaurant within walking distance of Amy’s apartment, not far from Downtown Fort Myers.

Amy had been attending a local community college and she wasn’t college material—not even
community
college material. I’m not sure if it had anything to do with a short attention span or a general lack of interest in the subject matter she selected but it wasn’t exactly an exacting curriculum. She was taking 100-level courses in English, History and Psychology and the final grade for each would be determined by how well she performed on the respective, weekly essays that were written from…HOME. Yes, that’s right.

Well, it still wasn’t easy but with some tough love, a little discipline and some nagging it finally paid-off as Amy successfully completed the semester with an
A
in History, an
A
in English and unfortunately a
B
in Psychology—but at the risk of sounding biased I think I deserved an
A
across the board.

In January, after briefly visiting me in Fort Myers, Perry headed out west to San Francisco to be with Shelly and soon launched Total Tree Care, a tree removal and landscaping service that would eventually enjoy some success. In the meantime, however, my life with Amy was largely dictated by her mood swings which swung like a pendulum. Each day was an emotionally-fueled rollercoaster ride and by the middle of March neither one of us could stand the sight of each other and the relationship was officially dead. As a result, on March 20
^th
Amy returned to Jupiter while I decided to ride out the lease and about a week later began dating a
nymphomaniac and planning the future, though one had nothing to do with the other...at least not in the beginning.

19

This is such crap! Peddling ten miles to College Point and back to play a stupid doubleheader in 90 degree heat—only to get pounded by the shittiest team in the league…
twice
! Oh, wait a minute: That makes
us
the shittiest team in the league. And now I have a frigging flat tire! This is just GREAT! But there’s only eleven more blocks to go and I think I can make it. I
better
make it. It’s only 1:30 and I’d hate to have to wake Ma to come and get me because…wait a minute…what the hell is that? Oh no—not another one. Not another little bird! It can’t be. Please, God, please don’t let it be or I think I’m gonna cry. AND I CAN’T CRY!! NOT HERE, NOT NOW! If anyone sees me crying in my baseball uniform I’ll be dead tomorrow before I step off the bus. But I think I see a little blue shell and it looks crushed and wet and…I think I’m gonna cry
.