Rock Star Wives And Their Noise Tape Collections

I walk in circles like everyone else these days. Making money money money and wasting what little time I have left. I can't help it. I see no other option. So kill me.
The other day I walked to the store to buy a pack of cigarettes and ran into my old friend Dave from East Boston. He was standing on the corner in front of the store, smoking a cigarette. He looked like he hadn't slept in days. We did a little small talk and then we got around to the topic I can't seem to avoid these days.
"So how you doing," he asks.
"Generally? Or how am I DOING?"
"How you DOING?"
"Pretty good. I'm in the Suboxone program, ya know. Whatever. Clean. Whatever."
"Good, man, good. I'm on my way to get high right now. Sorry. Hope I'm not tempting you."
I wanted to grab him by his throat a rip his larynx out, the fucking prick. Sorry? Hope I'm not tempting you? What kind of junkie piece of shit....cunt.....? I guess I have to get used to these situations. The mere mentioning of getting high makes me want to do it. It's strange cause standing there looking at Dave should make me feel the opposite, ya know? His hair's greasy from the sweats. He wipes the clear liquid that pores out of his nose every five seconds on the back of his filthy sweatshirt, leaving crusty trails on his sleeves. He sneezes every two minutes in violent outbursts. His eyes dart in every direction other than towards my eyes and I bet if I placed a naked, begging Patricia Arquette(True Romance era) in front of him, he wouldn't be able to summon the blood to his dick. But still, I wish I was him right now. I wish I was going where he was going.
"No, you're not tempting me."
Fucking bullshit. Why can't people like Dave go die already? Why can't all the junkies go buy plots of land in Chernobyl and stay the fuck away from me? Go take over the noise scene and scare all those pretentious think tanks with too much time on their hands. Do something constructive at least, just stay the fuck away from me and let me stay alive, for whatever that's worth. Fucking asshole.
"Dave, it was nice to see ya. Take care of yourself."
"Yeah, you too, man."
I walked away. I didn't bother to shake his hand. On the way back from the store I took a different way so I didn't have to see his face again. I guarantee that he would've still been standing there waiting for his dealer.
Lou Reed was right.
"The first thing you learn is that you always gotta wait."
I got back to the house and smoked four cigarettes in a row thinking about Dave and how much I never wanted to see him again. The urge to get high was eating my chest. I took an extra Suboxone and swallowed the wretch down with a sip of coffee.
"What have I done to myself," I thought. "What have I done to my brain?"
I wanted to kill myself. I wanted to scream. I wanted to lay waste to the entire house and tell my sweet old grandmother to go fuck herself if she complained about the mess. I didn't ever wanna hear about dope again. Fuck, I didn't ever wanna hear about asprin again. Petty people and their petty chemicals trying their hardest to kill me. Well, go fuck yourselves. You're not gonna get me again. I don't care if I'm bored for the rest of my life. I don't care if I gotta lock myself in my bedroom with 50,000 Snickers bars and a constant Twilight Zone marathon going, I'm not going down that road again. Ever. So Dave and everybody else that's trying to kill me, go fuck yourselves, OK?
"Hey, that Twilight Zone thing doesn't sound to bad, does it? I might do that."
Finally my anger had strengthened my resolve. I felt better. I guess I just needed to work myself into a Fuck The World type lather. I was practically sweating.
I turned on the television to VH1 Classics. In the darkness, before the picture came on, I could hear a woman's voice vibrating like a hyena and a man's voice that I recognized. As the picture came into focus, I could see a woman in a white suit and a man with a beard, also in a white suit singing into a microphone together. My heart sank. I knew what they were singing.
It was John Lennon and Yoko Ono singing "Cold Turkey."
What the fuck?