the simple fact of the matter is, she just wanted a line. a hit. granted, she had just snorted a small mound in the ladies room of the posh club down on the lower east side, but that was 4, 5 hours ago, and...well...its was 3'oclock in the morning. the guy she had allowed to take her home was snoring contentedly, half on, half off his gauche waterbed.

gloria remebered clearly what had caught her eye about the guy, whatever his name was. besides the fact he looked just like john travolta in that disco movie that had just come out, he was high out of his mind and walking all over club 54 tapping out little mounds of bliss to every blonde on the second floor, hoping they'd go to the basement with him. coke the wonder drug. gloria had marched over to the guy, given him her best farrah fawcett hair flip and smiled. he didnt say a word, just tapped out a little bit on the meat between his finger & thumb and held it up to her. before they had even said hello, he offered her coke. what a great city, what a great life.

thing was, that little mound didnt really do much for gloria. she had gone down to the basement w/ the guy, maybe she'd have gone down there with him regardless after enough time, without the coke, but he told her he had a whole lot right in his apartment. after she blew him in the corner, and got some more to snort in the ladies room, she came out, her eyes on fire and demanded he take her home, right then. and now he was snoring, and she was looking for a hit, just a little line, something to take the edge off, then maybe she'd catch a cab back to queens.

the taste of the guys semen, mixed w/ the aspiriny leftovers of the coke to make her mouth feel like both dry and swollen. quietly, but carefully, she went from drawer to drawer, starting from the bedroom, radiating out to the living room. gloria knew her mistake had been not to see the coke with her own eyes BEFORE she let herself get pushed into the bedroom. when they got to the guys house, gloria wanted to settle down to some good peruvian snorting, but the guy had other plans. no problem. he wouldnt be up for awhile. but where was the package? his living room was full of that asshole asymettric look that all the magazines said was so fashionable, really it all looked like right angles and warhol pictures to her.

she went to the kitchen, naked as a jaybird in a strange drug dealers house. of course the guy had wine in the frezer, she uncorked it, and took a deep pull, and then saw a large stack of bricks, wrapped in aluminum foil and what looked like saran wrap. gloria almost lauhed out loud, and put the opened bottle of wine back on the counter. she hurriedly grabbed a stack of the bricks, knocking a box of baking soda off the freezer door as she pulled them out. and just like that, as all great ideas do, gloria saw exactly how she could get out of the apartment, with enough coke to last her for weeks. without the guy even knowing.

to be cont.

i think its a lil long, mea culpa, i got 'caught up' - ursher

<---- til its over. 1986. WE REMEMBER


Mzungu Aende Ulaya — Mwafrika Apate Uhuru