What is it in life I’m looking for that I can never seem to find?” Speaking to my love interest, I tell her I love her but I must go. “Be careful Trip-Call me when you get to wherever it is you’re going.”

Showering, I let the steaming hot water hit my face for as long as I can stand it in hopes my sinuses will clear. If only I can force myself to breathe again. I am desperate to shove more coke up my nose so I can stay awake and alert and feel alive. While shaving, I look at myself in the mirror and realize how totally trashed out I am. I really should stop but as long as I can ingest more blow, I will. There’s no stopping until my system absolutely shuts down on its own. I am Superman! A super hero who knows not rest nor defeat! I’m a big, strong man who breathes fire and can leap tall buildings with a single bound! I comb my hair, brush my teeth and take one last look at myself in the glass before going about my way. I don’t even say goodbye to Valerie. Instead, I mindlessly trod out into the early morning daylight and get more cocaine from the trunk of my car. I start my engine, snort more dope and drive away not knowing or caring where I’ll go. For the next three days I am oblivious to my surroundings. Finally, I wake up in a motel with a chemical hangover, shower, shave and start all over again.

Funny, but I remember that night like it were yesterday even though it was almost 25 years ago. Every once in a while a certain song or smell will cause déjà vu - a feeling that I’ve “already seen.” And, I’ll be right back in the fast lane drinking and drugging just like I used to be. Sometimes I can even taste the cocaine as I subconsciously smack my lips in remembrance. Then, I look down at the two cocaine demons tattooed on my arm, Ether and Oil; a con­stant reminder of the wicked drug of death that consumed my life for so many years. Even before the days of free-base, I was addicted to cocaine. I’ve probably snorted enough to amount to that found in a child’s sandbox. It’s a wonder I’m still alive. All I can say is, I’m glad those days are over. But I wish I’d quit experiencing these feelings of déjà vu because it’s hard on a guy that’s trying to rehabilitate. If you’ve done cocaine before but have quit, don’t do it ever again. And if you haven’t but get the sudden urge to try … don’t do it. It’s a dead-end street that could very well lead you to federal prison. I’m Tripper. Better Days!

There was a particular Chinese restaurant in my area I use to eat at all the time. They had great food and a buffet that was simply out of this world! I loved to have lunch there. And every time I met a new chick, that’s where I’d take her to dine. The owner of the restaurant acknowledged that I came in with numerous pretty girls. Sometimes she’d wink at me letting me know she knew. Never was one to date Asian women. But this old gal was different. She had long, beautiful hair and I swear she must have had breast implants. Because most of the Chinese women I knew didn’t have 38-double D’s like hers. When paying my bill, I always told her to keep the change. Smiling at me, I wondered if it was me she liked or my money clip full of fifty and hundred dollar bills. Sure was a pretty little lady. Never thought of having sex with her, although I couldn’t help but to ogle at her tits from time to time.

One day, Brenda and I had just finished our chicken fried rice and egg rolls (not to be confused with yummy-yummy egg rolls in a previous blog titled the same), when my date announced she was going to the lady’s room. While she was gone, Sushi Sue came and started taking our dishes away. “How are you today?” I smiled and asked the hot little fox as she bent down to wipe my area showing me her less than ample cleavage. “Me fine. You know me mother, she like you. She think you coolest American she ever seen. You should talk to her sometime. Ask her out on date. She single you know.” Surprised at how bold this young geisha girl was in attempting to fix me up with her mama-sahn, but wanting to be nice, I replied, “Oh cool. Tell her I’ll give her a call. My name’s Trip, if you didn’t know.” Smiling, the young Chinese girl, every bit as pretty as her mother, turned and sashayed away.

“She’s cute, huh?” said Brenda when returning from the lady’s room. “Yeah, she’s okay. But you know me. I’m not really into Asian women. I like blondes. Now let’s me and you go do a couple of lines of coke and get naked! What do ya say?” I laughed and teased. I then took a five dollar bill and three ones out of my shirt pocket and left them under the fortune cookie tray as a tip. “Here! Wait!” said Brenda. “Aren’t you going to read your fortune?” “Nah, you know I don’t believe in that kind of stuff. Pick one for both of us and you read it to me.” I said. After paying for lunch and on the way out the door, Brenda snapped the fortune cookie in half and read. “Your love life is about to change for the better.” “Yeah, right” I said. “I believe that like I believe there’s a man in the moon! Now, get in the car. You like candy? Cause I got an all day sucker here with your name written all over it,” I teased.

Two weeks later, I returned to my favorite restaurant. But this time, with a different girl and her two kids. At 9 years old, my girlfriend Kim’s son Cameron was a mean little fucker. He was totally off the chain and out of control, saying words that would make the meanest teenagers blush. “Cameron, I’ll give you five bucks if you eat some of that red hot sauce in that bottle with the rooster and Chinese writing on the side.” I told him. “Is it real hot Uncle Allen?” he inquired. “Nah, even the wimpiest could turn the bottle up and drink that stuff!” I said. “Don’t tell him that Allen!” said his mom knowing that particular hot sauce would light a mother fucker up to no end. Shaking his head “no,” he smiled at me, his four front teeth missing, knowing he wanted that five bucks like crazy. “Ten bucks,” I said. Again, Cameron the terror shook his head “no.” “Okay, fifteen is my final offer. And look!” I said when squirting a little of the sauce on my fried rice. “I’ll even try some of it myself. I’m not a wimp!”

The waitress came and asked if everything was alright—did we need anything. And I asked her to bring us another round of Cokes. When she left, I laid three five-dollar bills on the table and squirted a big bunch of killer red hot sauce on Cameron’s rice. “What’ll it be? Just tell me you’re weak. Just tell me you’re a wimp and it’ll all be okay. I’m sure your little sister Jessie would like to have that fifteen. Let me find out you’re a real wimp.” Challenging this little terror, knowing his mother was going to be pissed, but perhaps even getting a little revenge after the 15 minute sailor mouth session he gave his mother on the ride over where she just took it and did not punish him at all, not even to tell him to be quiet! Grabbing the three Abe Lincolns, Cameron shoved a mouthful of hot saturated rice in his craw and began to chew.”Gotta swallow it all or it’s no deal!” I said. He did Then all of a sudden, his face turned beet red, eyes started bulging out of their sockets and he started gasping for air. “Damnit Tripper!” his mom screamed while hitting me on the shoulder. “Cameron! Take a drink of your soda before you pass the fuck out!” she said. I gave him a glass of milk that the pretty little waitress brought with the cokes, and told him to drink it up, it would go away and next time to think about that burn when he spoke to his momma. Yeah, old Cameron baby’s mouth was literally on fire there for a while. As a souvenir, I bought him a bottle of the Chinese hot sauce to take home with him when we left.

Time now to leave, I tipped my favorite waitress and walked toward the front. “Kim, take the kids and go on out to-the car. I’ll be there in a minute. I want to get a bottle of this hot sauce to go.” “Hi!” I said to the little Asian lady who owned the restaurant and always flirted with me. “That’ll be twenty-dowwa. Everything okay?” she asked. “Just fine,” I said when pulling out a wad of bills from my jacket pocket. Peeling off a twenty and an extra five for the sauce, I didn’t notice it at first, but apparently I’d dropped a quarter paper of cocaine on the counter. “Shit!” I said grabbing for the ziplock baggy full of powder at the same time as the hostess who said, “This my tip? This for me?” “If you say so,” I replied still in shock and really not knowing what to do. Embarrassed and a bit shaken I hurried on out to my Cadillac.

From that day forth, that lady never would leave me alone. She even invited me to the back one time where we shared a couple of lines snorted from a chopping block in the kitchen. She was cute and all. But as I mentioned before. I wasn’t into Asian chicks. I’d only dated one before. And she was a hooker and way, way too skinny for me. “You sure are handsome man. Sure you wouldn’t like to take me out on date some time?” she asked grabbing me by the forearm, running her hands up to my biceps adding, “Ooh! You so big and strong!” “Maybe later,” I said and smiled, not wanting to hurt her feelings. Leaving the back and heading out the front door, I thought to myself … think maybe she’s like one of those chicks in the movies— me love you long time? Who knows. All I know is, I got the hell out of there and after that and stopped eating Chinese buffet. Take it easy everyone. I’m Tripper, Better Days!