Dating A Coke Dealer (1/5)

We just came from brunch. The last thing I remember is sitting on the church steps with my friend, in the sunshine, next thing I knew it was night. An hour and half completely erased from my memory. We don’t know where he came from, but he appeared behind us in a pink, wide brimmed hat that reminded me of the monster in Jeepers Creepers. We were standing on a street corner somewhere on the Lower East Side, deciding which direction to head in.

“Should we go in this bar?” Cara asked.
“You don’t wanna go in there,” he said out of nowhere.
“You got weed,” I asked.
“I got more than that.” He replied.

Suddenly we were following behind this brolic man, in a sleeveless shirt. It was uncharacteristically warm for October, but not warm enough for him to be wearing that and long shorts. He mentioned something about my old boss, the one I thought was my twinflame, but it was the way he said it. If you didn’t know who I was why would you segue into a story, about this man without explaining who he is?

That night became a blur, we went into all these bars and paid for nothing. Anything Cara and I wanted he got for us. At one point I told him I didn’t have my second cup of coffee that day and needed one, or I would fall asleep. He proffered a vial of cocaine. I reiterated that I had a caffeine addiction. I didn’t know until Cara told me, but he walked blocks just to get it for me.

He had a chiseled face, with large turquoise eyes, surrounded by thick long black lashes. He was extremely attractive for his age, which is probably why I made out with him after he gave me E. I had no recollection of doing so until Cara reminded me. She said I was normal than she come out of the bathroom and I was standing above the crowd dancing. We were smoking weed inside of establishments that anyone else would have gotten kicked out of. Too many people from my former bosses life started to appear, including this sketchy black man who’d been arrested for drug trafficking. I looked him in the eye and saw a level of insanity that made me uncomfortable. I tried to get out of there instantly, but he cornered me, forcing me to shake his hand. My former boss is a young, good-looking, multi-millionaire who women throw themselves at. The fact that I was the one who got away is a huge deal to those who know him.

The night ended at a studio apartment, with us surrounded by strangers. At 5:30 a.m we called it a wrap and he gladly paid for our transportation home. He got my number and messaged me everyday for a week. Then disappeared.