It’s the same ol’ story. Boy meets girl. Boy meets girl’s drug dealer. Boy loses girl. Boy gets girl back … to her apartment safely without injury.
I submit to you, the court of public opinion, a date story. It all started so innocently. An attractive young lady and I were both temporary workers looking to earn some extra holiday cash. We met that morning on the job and became quite well-acquainted during the day doing the boring, monotonous tasks assigned to us. She was quite a bit younger than me and not typically someone I would travel in the same circles with, but fate and this desperate-for-money world brought us together. As our workday neared its end, I casually asked what she had going after work. She smiled and said, “I’m such a loser … NOTHING.” I replied, “Well, I must be a loser too because I don’t have anything going either.” She smirked and we both lingered a bit in the possibility the silence held. I said, “Well, you know I was thinking of going to a movie or something.” She said, “Oh, yeah?” I nodded and said, “Would you be interested … you wanna come with me?” She paused and then said, “Yeah.”
“Cool. Well, did you drive here?” I asked. She rolled her eyes. “No.” She let out a big sigh. “My ex dropped me off and is supposed to pick me up but …” I sensed there was some baggage here and said, “Oh, it’s okay, I don’t want to cause you any trouble …” She stopped me, “Oh my God, no. It’s just, you know, if he even remembers to pick me up.”
She explained that he had forgotten to pick her up before because he was “too high to remember.” She said in the past that she had to take a bus or call a cab, which would negate a good portion of her earnings for the day. She still lived with her ex-boyfriend in a situation she called “pretty ridiculous.”
I was sent home from work a little earlier than she was. Hers was not an ideal situation to get tangled up in, but then again, we were just going to a movie. So I called her at the end of her shift and read off a list of the movie options. She said that she hadn’t heard back from her ex and figured he was ditching her again. I told her I’d be happy to pick her up. She said that she would totally owe me and she felt bad. I said not to worry.
My house was on the way and we stopped there to decide where and what movie we’d see. We got into a discussion about her life … and what a sad, tough life it was—death, mistreatment, alcoholism in her family during her teens. She revealed all these things in an even tone and with a “what’re you gonna do?” shrug that told me she was telling the truth. But she was young and pretty and determined to beat it all.
I offered her a drink. She said that she didn’t really drink but that she liked to smoke and asked if I also “smoked.” I knew she wasn’t talking about cigarettes. I said not really. She emphasized that she didn’t do other drugs, “she just liked to smoke, ya know?” I said to each her own. I wasn’t judging; I just didn’t happen to do so.
A few moments later she asked if she could call her dealer. I would’ve preferred she didn’t, but I said it was fine. She called her dealer and spoke in slang. She hung up and asked me, “Do you mind? I should be able to pick some up.”
It would be hours before she could meet up with her dealer, so we went to see an action movie we both agreed on.
