Member-only story
Delivering legal drugs to addict(s)
…and getting away with it
I once delivered drugs to a guy named Bob.
Bob had short, grey hair that barely covered the many sun spots on top of his head, and his yellowish-stained teeth were quite noticeable when he talked. He was pale, had a neckbeard that wobbled with his facial reactions, and his house smelled quite pungent, even for an older person’s home.
But it was his laugh that I remember the most. He would fall back against his recliner, hold his belly like a madman and sort-of whistle as he breathed in and out after telling one of his many inappropriate jokes.
If I’m being honest with myself, I was also impressed with the large amounts of medication this man seemed to ingest on the regular.
Each week, I’d deliver a large white bag to him with an assortment of pills, which consisted of an over-the-counter sleep aid, most likely Benadryl, a sedative that “eased his nerves,” pain pills for his aching back and sore shoulder, blood-thinners and blood-pressure medications, an assortment of drugs for an overactive bladder and for his “racing” heart and also a pill or two for his diabetes. He had to have taken something like a dozen pills a day, and that’s just what I knew about.
