Hey, Why Have Just One Addiction When You Can Have Two? Or Three? Or More?

Hey, Why Have Just One Addiction When You Can Have Two? Or Three? Or More?

A few weeks ago, Jason, a guy I knew down here, dropped dead of a heart attack alone in his apartment, and wasn’t found by a friend till the following day when his fingers were already black.

Now Jason had led a topsy-turvy life. Once a wealthy businessman with homes, yachts, Jags and all the other accruements that go along with having money, he lost it all, so he says, to early dementia, and was living on a disability check. But as I said to my friend Frank who introduced me, I think it was alcoholism that ruined him. There are two kinds of drunks, the quiet kind and the obnoxious kind, and Jason was the latter, bating guys a foot taller than him at the Ramrod. Why he never got pushed through the wall always amazed me. Or calling me “shortie” when we stood eye to eye.

We were baking ourselves once on Sebastian Beach, Lauderdale’s gay sandbox, when Jason revealed, quite casually, that he had done heroin while in college. This intelligent, astute, white, upper middle class Jewish boy from the Jersey burbs had trolled the streets of Newark for smack, and met his wife-to-be shooting up in a drug den in Lauderdale that decades later became the site of Fun Town’s most iconic bar, The Alibi.

But as many counselors say, some addicts replace one addiction for another. Hard drugs for alcohol? Maybe.

Or take Kevin, one of my psychotic tricks who I dropped when he started acting eerily like Anthony Perkins in “Psycho,” who instead of making something of his life having survived stage 4 cancer at 19, instead became a poly-addict: chain smoker, heavy drinker, cocaine snorter, and meth slammer.

Hell, why have only one addiction when you can have four?

In fact, I’ve noticed many of my meth head lovers smoke like coal stacks; one even boasted he had done heroin too.

Talk about being alien to my former str8laced, three piece suit existence? I’d find a Martian right now more normal.

Me? As one astute Ray observer said, I’ m an attention whore. Guess my fucked-up introverted adolescence made me one, forever craving acceptance which is why the sex to me is secondary to the conquest. (“He likes me, he really likes me.”)

The last time I did coke was when I was in New York in early November.

The last time I did meth was two weeks ago with a hot hairy Cuban from Miami.

The last time I got drunk was last night at Alibi’s Iced Tea Night.

Does that make me a poly-addict too?

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