Poisons

Early last night I pulled in for the mandatory heart starter - a coffee and cigarette in Kings Cross. Commencing my eight shift in the last nine nights I wasn’t feeling too fresh, nor motivated, hence the attraction of said poisons.

Someone famous, from memory a singer, once said - ‘Find your poison and let it kill you’.

Near the coffee shop I noted the presence of a junkie sitting on the footpath. The barista claimed he’d been there for the last three hours, half-sitting, half-collapsed in a really awkward posture. Apparently, junkies who maintain the same comatose position for hours end up killing nerves in their limbs.

Later, after a really ordinary night I finally jagged a decent fare from the Casino to the western suburbs. The passenger was a middle-aged office worker who bitched all the way how Star City rigs the roulette wheel. Understandable after going straight from work to the Casino on a Monday night, then spending hours losing money.

Driving home I briefly wondered who had had the better night; myself, the gambler or the junkie. Then just as quickly thanked my lucky stars.

Comments

[PQ]

If you called the police and told them ther was a junky lying around at XXX Street, would they come and either check him out or take him into custody?

I won't touch drunks or junkies after having one swing at me after I shook one's shoulder one night after finding him passed out in a local park. He jumped up and starting shouting and swinging at me.
I called the cops, and they came and took him away, but that was in a middle class suburban park, not the inner city.

[MikeFitz]

My #1 Son doesn't touch coffee, drugs, tobacco or aclohol. However, his two younger brothers (both adults) make up for him in the alcohol dept.

#1 Son says "If I ever take up alcohol, I'm doing drugs and tobacco as well, coz only one of them will kill you and you get the others for free!

[Anthony]

The roulette tables couldn't have been rigged too bad if the casino let her leave with taxi fare.

[Goldstein]

Years ago I used to drive down Darlinghurst Road through the Cross to the Sebel Townhouse 4-5 times through the day, night -nearly ran over Frank Thring once, he'd left the Sebel and was crossing the street, all dressed in black. I noticed him, hit the skids hard, my Falcon sliding toward him, old bugger just stood there, mouth gaping in terror... I pulled it up a few inches from him, mouthed "sorry!!", he staggered off, presumably to change his underwear..

I also used to see a young girl, standing at the William Street end of Darlinghurst Road near Bayswater. She'd be there every night, "cracking it", and she looked maybe 14.

Every night I'd see her standing there, dark hair, slender, bag over her shoulder, in a mini skirt, winter into summer.

She seemed to get thinner as the months went by, and sadder. Then she wasn't there anymore..

Where's Travis Bickle when you need him?