the piggy bank

it was friday, and i was on the hunt again.  casey and i called up our dealer, kristi, and most of our money was spent in less than an hour.
we found ourselves in a familiar situation, sitting in kristi’s living room, getting high, swapping gossip.
i don’t know if it’s a junky thing, or just people in general, but whenever i get high with anyone, the topic always falls to whoever’s not there that day. he said she said bullshit.  i do my best to stay out of it, putting in my occasional “no way, he really said that?” with fained outrage, while doing my best to just enjoy my ride.
that was the attitude i had on friday, until kristi started in on a pretty juicy story involving our friend marc.  it sounded like a good one, so i finished fixing myself, and got comfy for story time.
marc is a good friend of ours.  about 26 years old, lives w/ his parents, always has.  he’s been using on and off for about 10 years.  he’s had some impressive runs with clean time, but it never really works out for him.
mary is a friend of his we get high with sometimes.  she’s his age, and her history is pretty similar, with some important differences.  her parents are loaded, and just so happen to look the other way when she pilfers their wallet for money to cop.  they also take care of her two young kids while she bed hops the poshest rehabs in the state.  her addiction has been a somewhat comfortable one.
marc and mary have been friends since they started getting high, early in high school.  so when thursday came, and mary called him on the phone, it was part of a pretty long string of dope binges they’d been going on.  she’d already called me three times that day, but i’ve been trying to cut down on weekday using.  even though she usually treats, i let it ring, and i’m really glad i did that, now.  but marc can never say no, and mary knows that.
mary gets to his house, and lays the catch on him. “i actually don’t have any cash today, marc”

“what do you mean? then why did you come all the way over here for?” marc is irritated already.

“well, i’ve got an idea. if you can spot me til tomorrow.” famous junky last words.

“but i’m broke, mary, i don’t get paid til tomorow.” marc’s mind was racing by now. money money money money.  you know, that frenzy you get into when getting high is dangled in your face like that.  “there’s the piggy bank.”
in marc’s parents living room they keep one of those big spring water jugs they call the piggy bank. it’s for his niece, and they put change and spare bills in it, and every couple of months they put it in her savings account. marc never touches it, unless faced with extenuating circumstances, like these he faced on this day. he always has the money back before anyone can notice. .
so he took about a hundred dollars in bills and quarters, and they went to the city. next thing you know, they are sitting in kristi’s living room, setting up shots.
“thanks so much, marc, you are always down to party.” mary said, tying off her arm. “ i get my welfare check tomorrow, and that money will be back before your mom gets home from work.”

“yeah, cool, mary, that’s fucking imperative”
so everyone gets off nice, and the conversation falls on that inevitable topic: getting clean.  i don’t know why, but if you get a bunch of junkies high, all they want to talk about is getting clean.
“i’m so sick of this shit, you guys.” kristi starts alot of talks this way “i’m calling detoxes tonight”

“yeah, i know what you mean, always broke, no one trusts you. i’m already on a list for a bed in boston:” mary said, which is ironic, cuz she’s never broke, and her parents never question her. and mary’s always on a list for a bed, so i can see why there were no red flags for marc.  she dropped him off at home about an hour later, with a promise to call friday morning, as soon a she got her check.
can  you see where this is going?
right about this time, the phone rings at kristi’s house. it’s marc.  he’s looking for suboxone, cuz he’s broke, and he’s sick, and guess who’s not answering her phone today?
i can’t help but get involved now, it’s all too fuct up. so i tell marc i’ll call mary’s parent’s house.
“hello”

“hi, this is kaia, is mary home?”

“no darlin, mary’s in a program in the city.  she’ll be gone for a while.”

“oh, well that’s good for her, when did she get the call from them?”  come on, take the bait….
“i think she got the call monday, she wanted to wait til her welfare check came, so she could buy some food for the girls, then she went shopping on wednesday, and left for the program early this morning.”
jackpot.
“well, thanks, maybe i can go up to visit some weekend”

“yeah, maybe, thanks sweety, bye now.”
i hung up the phone and shook my head at casey.  what a fucking hustle.  it was gonna suck to tell marc he got played so hard. mary used “shopping” as code for copping dope.  so she got high with all her welfare money, then used marc for his money, knowing she wasn’t gonna get him back, and was leaving for rehab the next morning.
you gotta hand it to her, she played it like a true criminal.
so i picked up the phone to call marc.  silly boy; no matter how long you’ve been getting high with someone, if they’re a hustler, you could always be the mark.