Every once in a while I come across people that just make me thank god that my years of drug abuse is over. Every where I go, I see goons. Goons who will do whatever they can for a hit of anything. I see them in school, on the street, even when I deliver pizzas a meth head might open the door. Some things in this world are just fucked up, I am just glad I am not apart of it anymore.
Anyway, on St. Patrick’s Day I was on the drunk train coming home from a night of partying in New York City. The conductor comes by to punch tickets and this one man sitting in front of me was passed out drunk as shit.
“Tickets please” the conductor says.
No movement. The conductor shakes his head in disgust and breathes in real hard and yells
“AY BUDDY, TICKET!!!!!!”
No response. The conductor starts pounding on the walls of the train, disturbing all of the passengers including me. The drunk guy awakes. He looks around and goes
“TICKET” says the pissed off conductor.
“Oh, yeah” The drunk reaches in his pocket for his wallet and starts looking through it like he was going through files. It wasn’t there. He takes out his pack of gum and starts looking through that.
“Its not in your GUM its in your WALLET” says the conductor.
The guy takes a piece of gum, puts in his mouth and continues to search for the ticket.
“Do you have the ticket or not”
“I do. Ugh, shit. I must of left it at the, FUCK!!! Yeah I have to buy one”
He pays for his ticket. After about 2 minutes of silence I randomly hear
“FUCK!!! WHERES MY PHONE? AND MY KEYS. WHERE THE FUCK ARE MY KEYS?”
The man gets up and frantically checks his seat for his lost items.
“NO, NO, NO YOU GOTTA BE KIDDING ME”
He reaches in his pocket and grabs a phone and makes a phone call. This is what I overhear
“Brandon, I cant find my keys or my phone do you have them?”
“No Brandon my fucking phone is gone so and so are my keys”
“I am on the train and I cant find my shit”
It made no sense because he claimed he lost his phone but made a call with a phone that was in his pocket. He was obviously obliterated. When he gets up again I noticed how delusional he must be. I took one look at this guy and he looks like he had the worst St. Patrick’s Day of his life. His face was red, his eyes were bloodshot and his hair was spiked up like he was in a punk band.
“Anyone see my keys?”
“Normal Nissan keys”
“Fuck. you gotta be kidding me”
He takes out his wallet and starts shuffling through his cards repeatedly licking his fingers to get a grip while shaking his head in despair whispering “My fucking keys”.
He takes a glance at my friends and I while going through his wallet and says
“I’m losing my mind over here guys”
Then he falls to the floor in search for his keys. Squirming from seat to seat like a snake practically kissing the disgusting train floor. This is when it gets beyond ridiculous. He screams
“MY FUCKING KEYS”
and then starts crying like a little baby that wants a bottle.
” BWAHBWHABWHABHWBA MY FUCKING BWBABWBABWBABWAB KEYS”
I actually felt really bad for the guy. Losing your keys is a colossal inconvenience that could cost you a lot of money and potentially your job. This guy looked hopeless and regretful. Everyone makes mistakes is what I thought, then the guy left his seat to use the bathroom or something. When he left I looked over to his seat and saw a bag of coke just laying there like it was nothing. That’s when my sympathy for the guy went out the window. When you get involved with hard drugs you should expect hard consequences.
I have had the most haunting acid trips that are indescribable to a normal human being. They still gives me panic attacks when I think of the worst of the worst. I never bitch about it because I always knew the risks going in.
The coke fiend keys guy was fucked in the head, I am sorry but it is true. When he was coming back to his seat he seemed confused and disgruntled. He looked on his seat , saw the coke, raised his eyebrows, and put it back in his pocket. Then he walked off. That was the last I saw of the keys guy.
This guy is a very poor example of how a human being should react in this situation. The way I see it the keys are gone and they aren’t going to be found. Just buy new keys and move on don’t cry about it like little bitch. Whenever something bad happens to me, I look for something to laugh about. There is no sense of getting all worked up about something that is now out your control. For me, the keys guy was little reminder of what I shouldn’t be doing 100% of the time. And for that, I thank him.