Metheads

The place that is the place of which I work gets it’s fair share of tweakers, drunks, and looneys. From the harmless to the bothersome, they come in and slink like no one is watching them. Most are and most have stories about them. There’s nothing you can do about them, but brush them off as something to talk about.

I’ve seen a few myself, just last month there was a looney outside pointing in directions rather rhythmically. As if he was directing traffic. The bell jingler from the salvation army was ignoring him rather deftly. I, on the other hand had to have a look at him and just watch as this bearded, Moses orchestrated silently, as if he were conducting everything in front of him. Directing the lady with her kids to stay as far away from him as possible.

One person at the place of my business saw a Crackhead peeing in the parking lot and another time a Drunkhead passed out in the loo and hit her head and bled all over the place. The Drunkhead lived as we all must of course.

I had a couple Methheads come in and dreamily talking about what I was doing and walk away, as if they were trying to be inconspicuous, which they were not to me.

Then again. I see these people. I make a note of them and put them into the library of my mind, for the dusty old man to retrieve it once in a while.