TheJunkiesFaust#6(FTDParish)

The stereo was turned up full blast but the Alice In Chains battled the wind and road noise as we cruised west on US 64 in Dirty's old covertible. A huge boat of a car that got about 12 mpg highway....this trip was gonna cost us some cash.

Good thing we had some. We'd both been saving for over a year so we could do this. We had enough for gas, grub and a hotel room or two on the way and enough to rent an apartment, first months, last months and damage deposit and enough to live on til we got jobs and had some money coming in....pretty danged responsible if I do say so.

The top was down, the sun was out and Indiana was in the rearview mirror. Dirty was driving, I knew that if I didn't make him drive in the bginning, I'd end up driving the whole way. Dirt needed to drive first, before he got too fucked up and I got too scared to let him. We didn't need to be in jail somewhere in Nebraska or Wyoming for the lovva God. If I was lucky, he'd make it to almost Kansas City before I got too paranoid and had to make him let me drive.....but I'd take St. Louis and count it a win. That'd be the first 3 or 4 hours anyway.....4 down, a coupla days to go.

We were in a small, bumfuck town just east of St. Louis when Dirt decided it was time for a pit stop. The one bad thing about a convertible.....well, other than inclement weather, was not being able to do lines on the road. Unless you wanted to dust some prime Illinois farmland with a coupla hundred dollars wortha really quality coke anyway. Hence Dirt's desire to stop. I figured he'd probably make it to KC now, hell maybe even Iowa. Not that stopping to do the blow would help, but that this was the first time we'd stopped. I woulda put even money on us having stopped three times by now.

Dirt pulled into some Mom n Pop convenience store with not much traffic and went into the bathroom together. I double checked to make sure Dirt had locked the door. Dirt worked on the lines and I rolled a joint. While it's tough to roll on the road in a convertible, one can smoke a joint if one tries hard enough....huh.

Dirt finished first and rolled a bill outta his wallet so we could wiff the humongous lines he'd just cut out. So, that's how it was gonna be, less frequent stops, but gagglers when we did. I could probably do half of each of mine throughout the whole trip, putting back the other half for when we got there and still be coked to the gills all the way to the Pacific.....but probably not if I was to be honest with myself. That'd prolly be the smart thing to do, but I loved me some cocaine seeee. And Dirt would whine the whole time too. Prolly eventually, I'd have to cut back if I was gonna get us to Cali in one piece though.

But for now he went first as I tucked the joint behind my ear and rolled the bag back up and stuffed it down my shorts. Dirt did just like always, hoovered up that gigantinormous line all up one nostril. One big blast right up the old shnoz. He was gonna drown in his own saliva one of these times. Just numb up his google with a big blast and he'll have to stand on his head til he has an aneurism or wait til all his spit ends up in his lungs cause his swallower's all numbed up. Idiot. No holds barred for Dirt, boy. All or nothin. Now or never. I took mine half up one nostril(really a good sized line on it's own) and half up the other, then wiped up the rest off the white porcelin sink with my finger and rubbed it over my gums.

Upon walking out of the bathroom, my luck prevailed and a local copper was standing right there. And the genius that I am, I had forgotten the joint behind my ear, which I immediately remembered thankfully. And luckily he wasn't lookin my way quite yet so I was able to turn my head just in time. He instantly took notice of us. Dirt's long, long hair(Dirt looked almost like a native American, the long hair, tall, sharp features, dark. The girlies loved him) and us coming out of the bathroom together like that and now me trying to do anything to make it look natural, me keeping my head turned away from him so he wouldn't see the joint.

"Boys." the deputy says with a curt nod.