Rewind, Redo, Recover
Interestingly enough, Home, happened on a night that would eventually change my life forever, and it was completely unexpected which made it that much more incredible.
Before I got home, before my parents went to bed, and before I snuck out to go buy beer and cigarettes (we know where that goes), I was riding in the back seat of a cop car driven by two female officers, accompanied unfortunately, by my father. The night that Home took place was on a Sunday, and the only reason I remember this, is that for the 3 days leading up it, I was, legally, missing.
I had 'run away' from home, because my father had told me I was not allowed out on the weekend unless I had finished a book report. Looking back, it was the stupidest rationalization I could have made, but nonetheless, one that would influence the next 2 years of my life. I had gone out with my father's permission but was to be home promptly at 8, no negotiating. I hopped on the subway and knew that I was more than likely going to disobey my orders and stay out past curfew, but how long I did not know, so I made no reservations and just played it by ear.
I made it to the Upper East Side and met up with 2 of my friends, both of whom were older and much more intimidating then I was. In a way, I revered them because they were 'rebels' and all of that dime-store-psycho-analytical nonsense, but the truth of it was I really wanted to be accepted, and I can admit that now without hesitation. I was young and had only mildly experimented with drugs at that point, so smoking pot regularly or drinking was nothing new, and I was always willing to try something else if it was available. The three of us waited in the cold and in Starbucks for hours before we finally found a coke dealer. I had never actually tried coke (except for once my older sister gave me a pinch and told me to rub it on my teeth) and I was excited to do what I had seen in the movies and heard about from older friends.
The dealer was a tall, black man, which is what I had assumed he would be, and met us in Starbucks, where we quickly gave him the money in return for the bag and left, so as not to attract unwanted attention. It was winter and cold outside, but we trudged on, not letting anything keep us from having a night out. We ended up doing some of the bag in a McDonald's bathroom, and the rest on a stoop, using a crudely cut straw so take bumps.
At this point in the evening I had received calls every 30 minutes from my father who left a plethora of messages asking me to call him or come home, none of which I responded to. I figured, if I was going to break the rules intentionally and maliciously, I might as well do it big.
The one big problem of the evening was that we didn't know where we were going to sleep. We had a few ideas and all of them either required more money than we had or involved parents and such. We finally decided that...Well I honestly don't remember most of it, but we ended up on our way to Yonkers to try and go to one of our houses. If you're from New York City you know that Manhattan is quite a distance from Yonkers, especially when you're getting there on the subway.
As fate would have it, my friend's mother wasn't awake and he didn't have his keys, so he decided he would try and scale the wall and crawl through his window. My other friend and I stood by while he climbed onto the side of his building in the middle of the night in Yonkers. God, it must have looked insane.
It's funny, but he actually climbed to his third story window and managed to open it and get inside. His mother wasn't too happy but she gave him $6 and sent him off. He walked out the front door and we discussed our options of getting back into the city, possibly to rent a cheap hotel room for a few nights. We gathered our strength and walked to the bus stop, where we waited for almost an hour in the freezing cold, until finally we were on our way. From the bus to the subway again, although most of it is a blur because I slept almost the entire way.
We had heard of this hotel on East 57th street that was cool and cheap and wasn't overly strict, and decided it would be worth checking out. We had talked about how we were going to pay for the damned thing, and decided that if I used my credit card it would work, and they offered to pay for more drugs. The deal was sealed, as they say, and we were soon placed in a room with only a bed, a television, and a sink. The sun was coming up and we passed out.
The next day was mostly watching the television's few channels and standing on the corner asking people for cigarettes and shit. When night came another one of our friends came over with a few girls and a bunch of drugs. By now, my cell phone had been shut off for a while so I decided to check out what my parents were trying to say. It was an endless stream of text messages and voice mails, too many to care. The last one caught my eye with, "We've called the police..."
My worst fears had come true. My parents called the cops and told them to put out an APB (All Points Bulletin). What a disaster, I thought. I excused myself to the bathroom and called my parents, feeling guilty about what I had put them through over the past few days. I told them where I was and they told me to wait outside. I made up some bull shit, about meeting someone outside, to tell my friends why I was going out. It was pouring and I smoked a cigarette. In under 5 minutes a cop car pulled up and my father stepped out.
When I got in the cab I was still on a heavy amount of drugs and hadn't slept or eaten food in a few days, and I most likely looked like shit. The two female cops turned around and asked me through the barrier if I was hurt or injured. I said little more than, "No, I'm fine."
When I got home I got a few sentences from each person in my family and then immediately went into my room. I decided to wait until everybody else was asleep, so I could go to the deli and buy cigarettes and beer.
Before I got home, before my parents went to bed, and before I snuck out to go buy beer and cigarettes (we know where that goes), I was riding in the back seat of a cop car driven by two female officers, accompanied unfortunately, by my father. The night that Home took place was on a Sunday, and the only reason I remember this, is that for the 3 days leading up it, I was, legally, missing.
I had 'run away' from home, because my father had told me I was not allowed out on the weekend unless I had finished a book report. Looking back, it was the stupidest rationalization I could have made, but nonetheless, one that would influence the next 2 years of my life. I had gone out with my father's permission but was to be home promptly at 8, no negotiating. I hopped on the subway and knew that I was more than likely going to disobey my orders and stay out past curfew, but how long I did not know, so I made no reservations and just played it by ear.
I made it to the Upper East Side and met up with 2 of my friends, both of whom were older and much more intimidating then I was. In a way, I revered them because they were 'rebels' and all of that dime-store-psycho-analytical nonsense, but the truth of it was I really wanted to be accepted, and I can admit that now without hesitation. I was young and had only mildly experimented with drugs at that point, so smoking pot regularly or drinking was nothing new, and I was always willing to try something else if it was available. The three of us waited in the cold and in Starbucks for hours before we finally found a coke dealer. I had never actually tried coke (except for once my older sister gave me a pinch and told me to rub it on my teeth) and I was excited to do what I had seen in the movies and heard about from older friends.
The dealer was a tall, black man, which is what I had assumed he would be, and met us in Starbucks, where we quickly gave him the money in return for the bag and left, so as not to attract unwanted attention. It was winter and cold outside, but we trudged on, not letting anything keep us from having a night out. We ended up doing some of the bag in a McDonald's bathroom, and the rest on a stoop, using a crudely cut straw so take bumps.
At this point in the evening I had received calls every 30 minutes from my father who left a plethora of messages asking me to call him or come home, none of which I responded to. I figured, if I was going to break the rules intentionally and maliciously, I might as well do it big.
The one big problem of the evening was that we didn't know where we were going to sleep. We had a few ideas and all of them either required more money than we had or involved parents and such. We finally decided that...Well I honestly don't remember most of it, but we ended up on our way to Yonkers to try and go to one of our houses. If you're from New York City you know that Manhattan is quite a distance from Yonkers, especially when you're getting there on the subway.
As fate would have it, my friend's mother wasn't awake and he didn't have his keys, so he decided he would try and scale the wall and crawl through his window. My other friend and I stood by while he climbed onto the side of his building in the middle of the night in Yonkers. God, it must have looked insane.
It's funny, but he actually climbed to his third story window and managed to open it and get inside. His mother wasn't too happy but she gave him $6 and sent him off. He walked out the front door and we discussed our options of getting back into the city, possibly to rent a cheap hotel room for a few nights. We gathered our strength and walked to the bus stop, where we waited for almost an hour in the freezing cold, until finally we were on our way. From the bus to the subway again, although most of it is a blur because I slept almost the entire way.
We had heard of this hotel on East 57th street that was cool and cheap and wasn't overly strict, and decided it would be worth checking out. We had talked about how we were going to pay for the damned thing, and decided that if I used my credit card it would work, and they offered to pay for more drugs. The deal was sealed, as they say, and we were soon placed in a room with only a bed, a television, and a sink. The sun was coming up and we passed out.
The next day was mostly watching the television's few channels and standing on the corner asking people for cigarettes and shit. When night came another one of our friends came over with a few girls and a bunch of drugs. By now, my cell phone had been shut off for a while so I decided to check out what my parents were trying to say. It was an endless stream of text messages and voice mails, too many to care. The last one caught my eye with, "We've called the police..."
My worst fears had come true. My parents called the cops and told them to put out an APB (All Points Bulletin). What a disaster, I thought. I excused myself to the bathroom and called my parents, feeling guilty about what I had put them through over the past few days. I told them where I was and they told me to wait outside. I made up some bull shit, about meeting someone outside, to tell my friends why I was going out. It was pouring and I smoked a cigarette. In under 5 minutes a cop car pulled up and my father stepped out.
When I got in the cab I was still on a heavy amount of drugs and hadn't slept or eaten food in a few days, and I most likely looked like shit. The two female cops turned around and asked me through the barrier if I was hurt or injured. I said little more than, "No, I'm fine."
When I got home I got a few sentences from each person in my family and then immediately went into my room. I decided to wait until everybody else was asleep, so I could go to the deli and buy cigarettes and beer.
posted by samuel at 10:18 PM
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