Introducing The Scholar to Crack

Introducing The Scholar to Crack

I was a 23 year old resident of Manhattan at the end of the 20th century. About halfway through my second year of teaching middle school & second year of grad school I met these people at a bar with a would-be boyfriend who was totally trying to ditch me and my neediness. They were unlike anyone I had met before in my school bound life. They smoked. And not just cigarettes. Something out of a glass tube that crackles when the lighter’s flame touched it. I had never held a lighter, never seen a drug before. I wouldn’t have been able to pick an illegal substance out of a line up. If I hooked up with these people I could have a grand adventure. School was out for the Christmas holiday–in those days you could say Christmas without being called culturally incompetent. When it was time to go back to school I would stop seeing these people and certainly stop…drugs. Dare I say it? And what was this drug I asked the guy who identified himself as a “promoter” but he never seemed to work. The girl answered for Johnny. The girl was going to be my first same sex experience and I guess she was. But I only held her attention long enough for some deep kisses. After that she was back to the tube, or “pipe.” Laura told me, this is freebasing cocaine.” She was so matter fact I hid my shocked response. Of course freebasing cocaine wasn’t crack, they reassured me and I believed them bc they were white and lived in midtown, not Harlem. Also they were my age and somehow that mattered. Well, alright as long as it wasn’t crack and it was their treat. This was huge! A glimpse into a whole new world. So what if the boyfriend didn’t work out and the potential girlfriend lost interest and I had spent another Christmas without family? If a behavior was extreme enough i could lose myself in the adventure of being “all caught up in it.” Do I need to tell you what you could see coming from a mile away? To be clear I will lay out the truth. Of course it was crack. Naturally they targeted me bc I had a job and would end up paying all the time. And you know it, the glimpse became a permanent way of life. From then on everything that happened in my life was drug related bc if I wasn’t using I was actively abstaining. From then til today, over 20 years later, drugs are a part of me. I’ve got to watch those glimpses I take!


Published by X-Streetwalker Turned Sex Talker

Caroleena used to be a drug addicted hooker on streets of downtown Honolulu in the early years of the 21st century. She was not the only learned streetwalker among the sex worker addicts. This group would have been a liberal college admissions officer's dream of diversity seeing as how they represented such a wide range of ages, races, family types, locations of origin, education levels, and gender identities. The two constants were trauma and dependency. Everyone out there had experienced life altering trauma which spurred them to seek refuge in drugs. Addiction was the unexpected phenomenon that kept them stuck in the dope. This downtown area was different from other drug saturated areas of America in one important way. The U.S. is the most violent country in the world, but in this corner of the nation there were no street gangs, no gun violence. You wouldn't get shot but you were probably going to be beaten up and robbed at some point. Interpersonal violence between intimate partners, friends, and family members was viewed as a natural part of being close to people. "Domestics" was something an individual brought upon herself or himself by causing problems in an interpersonal relationship. Caroleena, the perennial pariah even among society's rejects, had no intimate associates who might harm her. Prostitution was not as risky on Oahu as it was most everywhere else because the island was just too small. Everyone was somehow connected to everyone else with only something like two degrees of separation. You commit a crime, someone will know who you are and someone else will know how to find you. Hookers rarely got killed. Honolulu's relative safety allowed Caroleena over 10 years of street longevity until the scene ended when authorities started arresting men for allegedly soliciting undercover police for sex and posting their pictures on the evening news. tells Caroleena's adventures during her decade of addiction and its consequences--homelessness, prostitution, drug dealing, incarceration, family destruction, the list goes on. Every story relates events Caroleena experienced, witnessed, or imagined. The tale of this outcast is skillfully and paradoxically told in the language of the elite. The wording of the posts is itself a testimony to the wide grip that addiction has on all levels of society, even impacting the privileged who were previously thought to be immune to the troubles of the lower class. During these days of opiate addiction maybe she can answer some questions and present applicable solutions. If not, you are still in for a hell of a good read.

Leave a comment

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: