Repressed, obsessed, depressed
So it's 2001. I'm in CA, in the military, just divorced, and still trying to pretend that at some point in my life I won't be obsessed with beautiful men. But post-divorce and feeling angry for all my unfocused and deluded years; I decide it's time to explore what really makes me tick. So on leave, one Saturday night, I hit a bathhouse. I even use my military ID for a discount. I am drunk going in and feel bold; however being safe is my main concern. I just want to see everything I've heard about. I am not a drug user at all. Well, I see a lot of wild play, especially in the common rooms. It only takes 30 minutes and this fit, young, Hispanic man invites me into his room. Now my good sense is telling me I am not ready for this; but I follow him like a sheep. I tell myself, nothing sexually dangerous will happen. I am in control. As soon as I enter the room, the guy says try this and hands me a bowl pipe. Maybe it was the alcohol or the divorce stress; but without a pause I inhale a huge, lung full of white smoke. I hold it until the guys says blow it out. I know now, this was high quality Mexican crank; and this man knew all along how a novice would react. He wanted a depraved, sex-crazed, maniac willing to do anything he asked, and that's exactly what he got from me that night. We parted company eventually; but I could not convince myself to go home. I was so wound up and horny, I went six more hours that night hooking up with many different guys who had this fantasy drug. This is the crystal hook. It is 2009, and crystal may always be a part of my life. Everything possible has gone wrong, and I am now homeless. But I still think lovingly back to the night my affair with "Tina" started. This drug will take your life and soul.
story from Tweaker