I really should have known better than to go over there. I mean, I had enough street smarts to know how dangerous it is to go to a drinking party where you know there will be hard alcohol and crack heads. Crack heads are the most dangerous forms of humans, if you ask me. It doesn't even matter if you've been friends with them since the first grade. That doesn't make you immune to their tactics. Nope. Not at all. In fact, it kinda puts a big victim tattoo in the middle of your forehead, if your sympathetic to their cause. You might hear, “Oh, I need to borrow your car. I have a job interview I want to go to. I want to get off this shit, and start fresh.” hahaha! Yea, right. If you hear that, and lend your car out, know this. Your car is being used to to get drugs and do crime. Sucker. Oh and, you might hear this: “I need, like 10, or 20 bucks, because I have to take the bus there and back, and I need a pack of smokes.” If your talking to genuine crack head, then you know that 10 or 20 bucks is going to the nearest and fastest “crack dealer” and their getting a “piece”.(that's piece of crack, to those of you who don't know the lingo. A “piece” is exactly what it sounds like. A piece of crack. Usually so small and minute that it can be smoked up in less than a minute.)
Anyways, back my story. I should have known not to go, but my alcoholism wouldn't let me go that day, and all I could think of was “Free booze.” Yippee. In that time in my life you might as well have said that it was like winning the lottery. Free was free. And so off I went. To get stabbed.
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