passing for a tweaker
Frankie (35+)
I had to stop using drugs back in 1982 after I got Hepatitis B. Years later, on New Year's Eve 1999, I left Pleasuredome (or was it Universe?) about 5 am.
It’s never easy to get a cab in San Francisco but on New Year’s eve, it’s impossible. So, even though my feet were killing me from hours of dancing, I decided to walk the eight blocks to Market Street. I fell into walking up 3rd Street with two other guys. One of whom, I think, I had known by sight for years, but I wasn’t sure.
The other guy, who I had been eyeing on the dance floor, was showing the same lack of interest in older guys that I did when I was his age. Hell, the same lack of interest that I still do. If you have no interest in your own demographic profile, you should not be surprised when others fail to show interest. The old gay proverb was running through my head ‘If you live long enough you’ll have to pay for it.’ I hadn’t crossed that line (and still haven’t) but what a dreadful effect that fact must have on HIV prevention.
I was lost in that internal monologue when I heard the guy that I thought I had known say something to the effect of “look at us three tweakers stumbling up the street together” I turned and said, “I’m not tweaking. All I had was two smart drinks” (lots of caffeine). Both the other guys looked impressed that I could last that late into the evening without speed. I got off on passing for a functional tweaker. I could still party with tweakers without standing out as someone who did not do drugs. Or, maybe my brain was just fried from years of using. Or maybe their brains were fried from the drugs they had done that night.
I miss doing drugs but I can’t do them again. Seven years of trying, but failing, to manage my drugs taught me that. I like to stay up all night at dance parties and sex clubs. I like an ecstasy contact high. I’m glad I can pass.