the sick life

Krist called me from work one night asking if I would go to Canada with him and two girls that work with him. I said, “Sure, why not?” I wrote down directions for Niagra Falls, Ontario and waited for him to get off work. They came over and we drove around waiting for hours for this other car of people to get ready. I brought Drugstore Cowboy and Fear and Loathing with so Krist and me could watch them on his portable DVD player. It took liked 2 or 3 hours for the other car to get ready and by that time I was asking to leave. I had a feeling it wouldn’t really be worth the 4 or 5 hour drive, but they demanded that I come with. I slept most of the way there.

Krist bitched about letting him wear a patch, he doesn’t understand that I need them and he doesn’t. He made me give him 3 methadone for the trip, to cover for gas money that he never gave to the girl. I would have rather stayed at home and kept the patches on and the 3 methadone. The girl driving was in the army reserve. She had a medic bag that had IV drip bags in them. Krist and me made her stop and we checked to make sure they weren’t morphine.

40 minutes to the border I gave in and let him wear the patch for a little, I doubt it even did anything for him. 15 minutes from the border I got the patch back and took the other one I had off and cut them open and ate the gel that was left in them, wasn’t much there anyways. I threw the empty plastic out the window and got a little nervous about the border. Last time I went to Canada was the time I was smuggling Leftover Crack merchandise and had strip-searched and made to wait in customs for 4 hours only to be turned back.

This time we went right through after the guy checked out the trunk. They went to eat breakfast but I was not interested. Krist and me skipped out to check out the drug store. They all seemed to be interested in tourist shit. I have no interest in such things. I went and checked out Sauer’s Drug Store. They had a small place at the end of the room sectioned off in glass. I asked the lady working, “Do you have Tylenol with codeine?” “You’ll have to wait till the pharmacist comes in at 10.” So I left and walked around the section of Niagra Fall’s that just seemed so fucking weird and surreal.

There was Frankenstein’s monster holding a cheeseburger on top of Burger King. There was the Ripley’s Believe It or Not building that looked like a building turned on it’s side, with a window wiper climbing up and down a rope. It was a strange place to say the least. I bought a Cuban cigar and walked around the town. They finished eating breakfast and walked around wanting to check out tourist shit. I walked with them to look at the falls. The falls were pretty cool, I wonder what it would be like to go over them.

I was eager to drink but it seemed every place was closed except the duty free store. I went up to the casino and played a few slot machines and blackjack. Didn’t win anything, just broke even. Their bar was closed till 11 and we’d be gone by then. I asked the lady in the duty free shop if they sold absinthe. “No, we don’t but we do get a lot of people asking for that.” She pointed me in the direction of a liquor store but it was closed at that time in the morning. No where to get drunk, not that I wanted to. My methadone dose was wearing off and the fentanyl had long worn off. The girls and the other group from the other car came into the casino. I told them I was leaving and they said to meet them at the front of the casino at 10:30.

I walked back up to the pharmacy and asked the pharmacist for Tylenol with codeine. He asked if I wanted a bottle of 100 or 200. “200 please.” I got 2 bottles and a box of muscle relaxers, robaxin. The pharmacist was the nicest person in the world. It was the way it should be. Walk into a drug store, buy drugs, and the pharmacist doesn’t judge you, he’s nothing but nice and helps you get what you want. I got another Cuban cigar and walked to the Canadian customs office and asked about taking the codeine across the border. They said, “as long as you declare it they shouldn’t hassle you or give you any trouble.”

The bitch that was driving asked if it was illegal and I told her, “no it’s just Tylenol.” We crossed the border no problem.

“What are you bringing into the country?”

“Just postcards and Tylenol.”

“Where are you citizens of?”

“The United States.”

“That’s what I like to hear.”

We went through no problem, didn’t even check the Tylenol. Time for a nice Cold-Water-Extraction.