Lost and Found


I walked up to the door of the 18th floor condo. I could hear the filtered sounds of vocals and bass vibrating through the walls. I let myself in and immediately noticed the mound of cocaine on the living room table and the gaggle of fiending vultures hovered over it like it was a pile of rare cut sparkling diamonds. I pushed my way through the thick and murky unknown party filler and made my way to the kitchen to find the nearest bottle opener so I could break into my cabernet sauvignon. I found an opener, but no glass suitable for a vintage burgundy… I had to settle for a cheap White glass. Not quite the note I was hoping to start the evening on.

Finally, he came over and said “oh good you found it” “Yep. I did”

“What are you drinking?”

“Something I probably should have saved for home” I said as I raised an unimpressed eyebrow at the less-than-stellar glass I was drinking from.

He didn’t quite get the wit of my wine snobbery and instead offered me a beer, obviously not realizing that I wasn’t a beer broad or that his glasses weren’t appropriate for a burgundy.

I looked around at the party goers as I sipped my wine. I was pretty sure that every single one of them was high. I felt a tinge of a craving coming on, but it was quickly thwarted as I saw some space cadet chick with dilated pupils and a motor mouth wiping her runny coke nose on the sleeve of her sweater as she continued to ramble on about absolutely nothing.

Then, it all came back… the memories, the binging, the hang-overs, the desperation, the depression, the depravity of it all.

Suddenly, I felt strong. But I also felt like I was the only one left in the world who didn’t do coke.

So I sat in the corner with the DJ, the only guy in the room that was into something other than getting high. And I watched him masterfully spin, mix, manipulate, and filter the tracks, as I sipped my expensive wine from the insultingly cheap glass.

After throwing down a mix he looked at me and smiled; “Not quite the party you were hoping for?”

“Yeah, well… I don’t really know anyone here, just Mike. We work together. He invited me… I only came because I had nothing better to do.” “Can I offer you a line?” I froze… realizing that I was wrong. I really was the only one in the world who wasn’t a coke head. The DJ was just as bad as the others.

“I’m going to pass on that Will… You’re about 3 years too late.”

He smiled at me again and said “I hear you; I’m trying to cut down myself. It’s a losing battle. I only really do it on weekends though.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out eventually, good luck with that!” I smiled back.

I threw back the remaining few sips of my cab and headed for the kitchen to pick up my bottle, cork it and head for the door. I strolled past the washroom and noticed someone hurling with the door open. “Lovely” I thought to myself.

I waved to Mike and left before he could make his way through the crowd to convince me to stay. When I got into the elevator, I sighed. I felt better. Better for being out of that condo… better for being out of the scene… and better about myself for finding willpower and strength where there once was none.


8 thoughts on “Lost and Found

  1. Like me in the casino. Will power is a bitch. I went up 500 then lost it all then got back up like 750, these Vegas trips are a bitch. I have always felt like I could be an addict to something. I like the high of winning 100 or 200 in a sitting. I guess it isn’t the number, but the fact that I can win. The hard part is staying in the hotel room when you see all that going on outside. I put a picture of Elijah on my desktop and then it all goes away. That and I stare at the 100’s in my wallet.

  2. I understand what this is like. Could be ficitinoal, could be true for you..we will leave this to interpretation!! I am proud of the girl in the story. Finding the strength to say no is a HUGE deal. I have been there sistah!

  3. I can understand what that is like too. I had an addiction to prescription pain killers and at times I can feel the craving come on. It was synthetic heroin and it has hard to just say no.

  4. Steve: Gambling is a bitch when she fucks you, and a queen when she pays you! I could see how the rush would be addictive. I’m not much of a gambler… The coke sort of prevented me from sitting in one spot for very long!

    Peg: Yeah, all of my stories are morphed situations from my life experiences in one way or another. Most of them have factual underlying themes (such as this one). Finding the strength to say no is the best thing I ever did.

    Kuntrygurl: I am so glad that you got off of them! Your life is worth so much more than that. It’s very difficult when you are controlled by habit. I just laugh now at how different my life is, most nights i’m in bed my midnight and i’m up by 7 (even on the weekends). What a change!

  5. *holds up hand*
    it was alcohol for me, thirty years of it.
    fourteen months sober now though; i think this time i got what i asked for.

  6. Sometimes I wish I had a vice. My closest would be alcohol but I only every really have a couple on Fridays after work but I leave at 5 to go home.

    Cool that you got over the drugs. They suck. Of course I’ve got no real claim to that having never done drugs or even smoked a cigarette.

    That being said though does the wilfull desire to do stupid things count as a vice? Is there a clinic for this sort of thing? Something like WDTDSTA (Wilfull Desire To Do Stupid Things Anonymous)?

    Why do they call it Alcoholics Anonymous when you have to introduce yourself at the meetings?

  7. mortality – funny how the forces that trap us into a situation are quite the same with the forces that empower us to resist. in any addiction, i’ve proven this to be true. 😉 but that’s just me.

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