Chapter 14: Coke And The Laser Printer
After four years of selling, the next big catastrophe occurred. I had been indulging in a lot of LSD on my days off. One cannot do acid two days in a row, as the second day is not as powerful. As I explained earlier, over the years, I have tripped hundreds of times, never a bad experience and always spiritual. I have never sold it, just personal consumption. I have never recommended anyone to try it. Today, I have not tripped in years. I drink 2 beers a night to help me sleep. At seventy-one years old, no longer sought after. So these writings are not the result of any mind-altering substance.
I had two days off work and a friend, Joe, asked me if I would be interested in buying a four-finger bag of pure PCP from the chemist who made it, for one hundred dollars. This is a horse tranquilizer. Sure, why not? I had no idea. After what occurred over the next several days, I could say this. Comparing LSD to PCP, LSD is a shot of beer, and PCP is a fifth of whiskey. PCP is one of the most absolutely horrible drugs in existence.
I'm driving back to my apartment, Joe is sitting next to me. He snorted a big line. Instantly, he said, “Hallsey'', my nickname, “Where are we going ?” “Back to my apartment.” “Where?” “Back to my apartment.” “Hallsey, where are we going?” “ Back to my apartment.” “Where is my dad?" “I don't know, Joe”. “My dad is where?” “I have no idea.” He went quiet. Wow. I was dating a lady named JoJo. I went into the apartment and told her this stuff was very powerful. We both snorted a very small line and instantly everything went euphoric, we were surrounded by white light. After a half hour, I wondered where Joe was and went out to the car, he was drenched in sweat. He hadn't been able to open the door and said he’d had been exploring the universe. He crawled on all fours across the street and had urinated himself. He came into the apartment and straight armed my oak coffee table over his head, demonstrating enormous strength. JoJo and Joe vanished. What? Over the next two days, I'm snorting a little every four hours with no sleep, thinking I had a handle on this. I was very, very, very wrong. I went to work Friday morning, so high, I didn't know I was high. I worked at corporate headquarters, which also had a sales floor. I found out, after the fact, that I was going to be promoted to store manager. I was fired.
Here is exactly what happened and is a very true story.
My first customers were two men from a company called Stuart Sandwiches, looking to buy a used sixty-nine-dollar freezer. We had an open-to-buy list, where customers with a good buying history could take the product and pay later. I had looked at the wrong list and naturally didn't see the name. I walked upstairs and barged into the vice president's office. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t dream of doing this, but I was starting my descent into insanity. He was in the middle of a meeting and I explained that there was a man named Stuart Sandwiches trying to buy a freezer. It's a company. He said to not let them take it. I went back down, told them, and they went ballistic. I just stood there, looking at the floor. A fellow salesman came over and peacefully resolved the situation. I went to my desk and opened a King James Bible my mother had given me. The horrible words became extremely pornographic, vial, threatening and menacing. I closed the Bible. A couple of minutes later, there was a man behind me, looking at a stereo. It turns out he was a semi-driver taking a load of appliances back to Bellaire, which was five minutes from my hometown, Martins Ferry. We were also a distribution center servicing 3 states. I went back to my desk, tore the front page out of the Bible, and wrote, “Mom, just thinking of you, have a nice day. Love, Bob”. She had, what turned out to be, terminal breast cancer. I went back to the warehouse, found the driver, and asked if he would mind taking this to my mother in Martins Ferry. He said sure and asked if the semi could maneuver in the backstreets. I looked at the truck, it was miles long. I proceeded to walk back to the sales floor, the driver following me. We were in a darker area of the warehouse when he stopped me, grabbed my hand and explained he was gay, and asked if he could give me oral sex. Now, from my experiences with Michael, I had no issues with gay men. However, in my mind, he had just received a Holy Mission, taking a note to my mother with terminal cancer. I had a 350 lb. bench press and if I had torn into him, he probably would have been killed. Turning around, I entered into a state of stark raving madness.
Sprinting to the sales floor, I started switching all the price tags. I had an Amana ice and water refrigerator priced at $79, this unit sold for $1599. A basic washer was priced at $1999. The high-end over the counter microwave was $29. Several customers were browsing, with one couple debating on buying the microwave. OMG, why the debate? After picking up a can of Coca-Cola and running upstairs, I poured it into an industrial laser printer. I squirted mustard on my suit and sat at my desk. The V.P. came over a few minutes later and asked, “Bob, What's going on?” Quiet. “Are you drinking anything?” “No.” “Are you smoking anything?” “No," I said, “Fred, I’m scared.”” Why are you scared?” I told him the truth, that I was overdosing on PCP. Five minutes later, the police arrived, and we drove to an emergency room. They observed me for over an hour. I have no idea exactly how long because I was lost in the madness of my mind. The doctor gave me a card to a mental institution and explained due to not being violent, I could leave. Somebody drove me back to work, and I was told to take the weekend off. After the fact, I discovered I was going to be promoted to store manager. I was fired on Monday. A good friend said the printer would randomly print, “Things go better with Coke.”
I had a 1969 Chevelle SS. and remember hitting one hundred miles per hour and not on the interstate. Becoming lost several times, I'm on the interstate, then side roads, then the interstate. I ran numerous red lights and stop signs at a very high speed. I'm dripping wet with sweat as it was over 100 degrees. Somehow, I made it home. Arriving safely without even a ticket qualifies as a miracle. I was completely insane, deranged and experiencing extreme psychosis.
I called mom and explained a homosexual might be pulling up in a semi with the front page of the Bible she had given me. Asking what on earth was wrong with me, I told her the truth about overdosing on PCP. After also explaining, I would probably be fired, mom said,“You son of a b-itch” and slammed the phone. I lost my best friend and would very soon enter hell.
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