I passed the old Kruegers Drug Store downtown today, and made the corner where the payphone stands, as I made a turn into the traffic I even caught a clean view of those old doors that went into the lobby I remember so well, I'd hit that lobby as quick as I could after meeting Shorty so that I could fix. Shorty ain't around anymore, the drug store is closed, but for a split second today it was twenty years ago. I could even smell the dope, the suphur matches, and Shorty's cheap ass cologne.

 

I met Shorty through a 'friend of a friend'. He called me 'kid', or jokingly called me 'vato', he rarely if ever called me by my real name - come to think of it I guess nobody knew his either - I doubt that he was born "Shorty" - but as I came to learn even his own family called him that.

 

Shorty was the strangest heroin dealer I've ever had. He was a Tejano all the way. Cowboy hat and lowriding Cadillac, his radio almost always played 'ranchero' music or 'oldies', though sometimes R and B. Shorty didn't talk alot but it was known he'd done hard time for a drug bust and he was extremely careful now. You played by his rules or you didn't play at all - he was worse than Seinfeld's "Soup Nazi". - "No soup for you" meant going sick, so it was like a game of "Simon Says" as far as I was concerned. I did EXACTLY what he said and followed his directions to a 'T'. That may be the one reason I was one of the few 'Gringos' he'd deal with, even giving me the honored title of "Guerro" - which is much better than being a "Gringo" - believe me. I remember slipping him the money in a handshake. I don't know how the hell he did it, but he could count the money with his fingertips, and dispense the ballons out of his mouth and pop 'em back in my hand in one fell swoop. Next thing I knew he was pulled over waiting for me to exit his car. "Odale Vato".

 

Shorty alway had a old prostitute lady he kept as a girlfriend or 'mi rucca' as he would say with a smile. Not that it matters but I don't think he had sex. He was old, and had a huge habit, but he didn't like to be alone. When he started getting sick he would send her to meet me instead. We became good friends too, her name was Sheila. After talking awhile we discovered that we knew each other from ten or fifteen years prior - but we both looked so different we didn't recognize each other. Eventually I saw Sheila most of the time, Shorty was always sick. She came home one day and he lie there dead. That's how I heard it. She went to rehab and got clean, I think she's in NA now. That's good. It was a sad life, and we were junkies, out for ourselves, yet somehow with an unspoken bond. I don't miss those days, but I got sad for a minute thinking about how time has passed and people are gone. I hope Shorty's gone to a better place - I kind of doubt it though.

 

Odale Vato