How to Deal with Meth

You know, meth heads get a really bad wrap. I mean people attribute the jitters, stealing, insomnia, mood swings, depression, suicidal thoughts...all to meth! Why is that?

Because meth is related to all those things, dumbfuck.

 Anyway, there are a ton of great things that meth can provide you! You've been looking at meth through cloudy glasses my friend! Just take a peek at these:

It'll be like having a cat, without the cat!
Well the piss part. Your apartment will soon smell like cat piss, but you won't have to deal with a cat! Isn't that great? Think of the opportunities- you can invite all your meth head friends over and have parties, INCLUDING Dan, who is allergic to cats. You can fool them all into thinking you have a cat when you really don't!

Learn to speak in a British accent, and everyone will think you're from England!
You'll have the accent, and the teeth to go with it! 

Sorry that was kind of a racist remark. 

Oh la la I shall go paint a mustache on my douche canoe.

  

You'll make great friends with the local authorities. 

If you redistribute your white gold, you'll make them even faster! 

All jokes aside,

Meth is fucking dangerous. Stay away from it.

What I really wanted to write about in this blog, was my meth head neighbors. While they are really not "legally" living there, they hang with my neighbor and are constantly moving in and out. I'm pretty sure they are homeless, and they just bum cigarettes and a couch off my neighbor Dean. 

Living next to them, I've had a run in or two with them. It's always a party...

 A METH INDUCED COMA PARTY.

First, I'd like to introduce you to Steve. He is my meth head in shining armor. He protects my apartment and watches out for my belongings like my pick-up truck and the potting soil I have on the front porch. I met him in a less than desirable fashion, multiple times, actually. Although he didn't remember meeting me the first time when we ran into each other the third time. I'll get to that eventually.

Steve is a homeless man that is apparently friends with Dean. He's about 5 foot 8' and has no teeth. His hair is falling out and he reeks of ammonia. He's always really jittery and bouncing about, I don't think he's capable of sitting still. I tell people about Steve and they go, 

"Oh, but how do you know he's on meth?"

Just a hunch, really I just like blaming people's problems on meth when really it's our government's faulty leadership.

FIGHT THE POWER.

The first time we met, I was getting out of my truck, coming home from work, when he was walking up to Dean's house. I'm pretty sure Dean was gone at work, but he banged on the door for a good five minutes while I unloaded my truck. He turned to look at me and goes, 

"Do you know where Dean is?"

 Yeah, I have a chip planted on the cape of his neck under his skin. Let me pull out my iTrack app on my phone. 

I politely told him that I didn't, and that I assumed Dean was at work. 

"Do you know when he'll be home?"

Yeah, when he's done at work. 

Once again I broke the news that I have no idea what Dean's doing since I'm not my neighbors keeper. 

"What are you doing?"

Wishing I had seen you coming and drove one more block down and waited until you left. 

After explaining that I just got off work and was going inside to work on some school projects, he asked.

"Can I just hang out at your place waiting for Dean?"

...Yeah I was just thinking that would be a great idea. I've always wanted to get stabbed to death!

I declined, saying that I didn't feel comfortable having a stranger in my house.

"Why not? Is it because I'm ugly? Do you not like me?"

Ugly? What are you talking about? I'm fighting the urge to rip off your clothes and fuck you on my kitchen table.

I just stared at him and then asked if he was hungry.

THIS WAS A MISTAKE.

He nodded. I went inside and got him a few granola bars I had from Costco and gave them to him. I said I hoped he had a nice day and went inside. 

I didn't hear from Steve for a while, I didn't know his name was Steve at that point, I just remembered him as Dean's crazy friend. About two months later it was maybe early December and I was getting ready to leave for Arizona to go home. He was sitting in a lawn chair as I carried my suitcase outside to the curb, waiting for my friend to pick me up and take me to the Hut shuttle. Steve waved to me and asked where I was going. I didn't want to talk to him, as I was still uncomfortable with him being around. I am just too nice and so much of a sucker that I just said, "Hello, I'm headed to Arizona for winter break."

He asked me, "Who's going to take care of your plants!? What about your truck? What if someone steals it?" 


I stared at him and said, "My roommate Brian will be here to watch over things while I'm gone."


He goes, "You can't trust men with nothing."

Hey maybe meth does teach you something.

 I told him that Brian is a great guy and knows what he's doing. Steve then asked if Brian and I were married and I said no, and then he asked if we were dating and I said, no. He told me that he was waiting for Dean to get home from work. I just nodded and then asked him to watch my stuff. He didn't have a jacket and it was fucking freezing. I went inside and got him one of my dinky couch blankets that I didn't need since I had a lot of them, and two granola bars.

THIS WAS ALSO A MISTAKE.

I walked out and handed him the stuff and he refused my blanket but took the granola bars. He said that I was an angel but he didn't feel right taking my blanket. I told him I had like 50 of them and he looked cold. He shook his head and said he was hot. So I just gave him the granola bars and threw the blanket back on the couch. I started walking down to the corner to meet my friend and he called out,

"I'll watch over your truck, your man, and your house while you're gone!"

As long as you don't rape my man Brian in the back of my truck while my house is on fire, we're all good, Steve. 

I didn't realize what I had done by in a way, befriending Steve. I ended up forgetting about him because I didn't see him for months. Although I kept coming home and finding weird things on my porch. I found out this was Steve. Later though- after a weird night he was hopped up and angry about Norma Jean. 

 "You mother fucker you come open this door right now! I swear to god I'll break down this door and kick your ass. Get out here you coward pussy fuck!"

I'm sitting here on my couch writing a paper while some weird ass bangs on my door screaming profanities. 

 What would YOU do?

I did what any normal, logical person would do:

I opened the fucking door.

He kept screaming at me for a few minutes saying things like, "Where's Dean!? Get Dean out here now!"

I assured him that Dean did, in fact, not live here.

He accused me of lying, saying that I needed to quit hiding Dean and that if Dean didn't get his ass out there in like two seconds he was gonna come in. I pointed to the door next to me, where Dean actually lived, and told him that the man he was looking for was behind door number two. He stopped screaming. He then became really sad and apologized for causing me trouble. He introduced himself as Steve, and asked my name. I gave it (probably a mistake) and he shook my hand. He then took a sniff of the air (I was baking) and asked what I was making. I was making bread, but I didn't have any yet, so I went inside and got three scones I had made up and gave them to him. I told him to please stay out of trouble and to know which door he's banging on before he does it. 

He just looked at me with huge eyes and asked if I liked my stuff. 

Then it hit me. This was the guy leaving things on my porch. 

This made no sense to me at all. Meth is so weird. He was accusing me of hiding Dean when he knew I didn't live with Dean?  Did he just think that I lived with Dean? His brain is probably so messed up he didn't know what the fuck was going on. 

So far I'd gotten a weird rocking chair that smelled like corpses and a couch. He'd also left me a basket of dying mums he found somewhere. I didn't know who was leaving these things, and would text Brian a picture going, "What the fuck, is this yours?" Brian would send back, "O__o?"

If I didn't take them inside, within a few days they would disappear. I assumed it's because he realized I didn't want them. Anyway, now that we had been formally introduced, I knew who was leaving weird shit on my porch.

After meeting I got a few different items from Steve, he would ask for an exchange of food, his favorite being granola bars.  

He brought me a lawn chair, a green one, that he claimed matched my plants. He brought me a normal sitting chair without the padding on the back, and he found me some plastic pots that had been abandoned and thought I could use them. So by being nice to him, I think I've gained his respect. 

Oh dear lord, but what about when the meth heads decide to go through and ransack shit in search for money to buy more meth?

Ironically, we had someone go through and break the windows in the cars in my neighborhood a few months back. They stole things out of the cars, and I had the police knock on my door and talk to me. Yes, my truck had been out there, no, my truck was fine. Although my neighbors Suburban was broken into. Later I ran into Steve and he said something like, "I told them not to hurt you cause you were nice." 

I had no idea what the fuck he was talking about, but I'm equating it to that. Given that I had left my GPS in there and my iPod, had they ransacked my vehicle they would have taken them. I don't leave things in my car anymore. 

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Not so nice encounters of the meth-induced kind:

When they come knocking at your door and you answer and there's three weirdos you don't know bouncing around going,

"SWEET JESUS DO YOU HAVE A LIGHTER?!"

When you hear scary crashing sounds outside and are home alone, peek out your door and notice that they threw bicycles all over the place outside and kicked over Dean's garbage cans.

Numerous times I've been asked if I have a smoke, they can crash at my house, or the occasional "So I was hungry so I picked this rotting orange out of your garbage can and ate it is that okay?"

 Which always leads to me giving them more granola bars. I've also taken to leaving my cans outside in a paper bag for them to recycle and get money.

Moral of the story: Be nice to everyone, even if they are not the most socially acceptable. That way when their friends go through your neighborhood and break windows, they won't break yours.