Did I Ever Tell Y'all The Crack Story...?

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I wasn't 100% sure whether I wanted to tell this story but I told it anyway. I'm not passing judgment on anyone or their way of life. It's up to each one of us to decide how we want to live and what we'll have around us.
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It's funny how being in a relationship can change our lives and introduce us to new lifestyles and ways of thinking. Think of how many things you learned about because you used to date what's-his-name. Or music artists or TV shows you got hooked on due to what's-his-name having them on all the time. Even when you and what's-his-name have long parted you still enjoy those things he introduced you to. Every relationship has the opportunity to change our lives. The exposure to different things during the course of a past relationship on the other hand can reinforce your own ways of thinking and give you further confirmation that your way is really what's best for you. Sometimes an unsuccessful trial at a different way of life gives us the confidence not to change.

My first substantial relationship was with this guy, we'll call him Michael. When I first met Michael online I was immediately enamored with him. I thought he was so fine. After our first date we started seeing each other more and more often. It was difficult though because I was from Brooklyn and he was from all the way up in the Bronx and at the time we both lived at home with our parents. But through some sneaking around, a few quiet quickies and some hotel rooms here and there we still managed to see each other. Love always finds a way, that is if the mutual desire is there. In a strange twist of fate he ended up moving with some other relatives to Brooklyn about fifteen blocks away from me. We actually lived on the same street.

Michael lived in the projects (public housing) in both the Bronx and Brooklyn. Until I started dating him I had never been in the projects before. I grew up in Brooklyn, in East New York, I know it sounds crazy. There were at least five project developments within walking distance from me. I had seen them all before, I'd been around the perimeter but never inside. I was always told that the projects are for the people who live there and that it was not the place to be if you didn't know anybody. I didn't grow up rich, my parents worked hard, we lived okay, I never went to bed hungry. I guess you could say we were somewhat middle class. I don't think my parents thought that we were better than anyone else but now looking back I realize that there were certain things that they didn't want me around and for good reason.

That summer I would go see Michael every other day. Unlike my family his family knew about and accepted his sexuality so I would spend way more time there than he would at my house. In fact the whole project knew about Michael, he grew up there between that project and the other one in the Bronx. He was feminine and hardly shy about his sexuality but he got much respect even from the even the hardest dudes there. He was very different from me to say the least but that's one of the things I liked so much about him. He smoked weed, which is something until that time I had never been around. I can't say I liked it but I didn't come into his life to change him. Even still I used to buy him weed all the time even though I never smoked and I still haven't to this day. He'd gone through so many hardships in his life, we grew up so different but I was just so glad we found each other. I was in love. I knew he was wrong for me but when we were together it felt so right. He was different from anyone else I've ever dated and his whole way of life was different for me. Maybe I was a little sheltered. Maybe I needed to experience something new so I thought I would give it a try.

I have to admit that there were many times I was scared going to see Michael. We would go out on dates at night and being the gentleman I am I would go all the way home with him bringing him all the way to his door. We never wanted those nights to end. I remember being horny and messing around with him by his door. He would then take me into the stairs and suck the hell out of my dick. I guess I wasn't so scared of the projects that I would refuse a blowjob. Once I came back to myself and he went in the house I remember sprinting out of them projects back to the street where at least I felt it was somewhat safe. In retrospect I think I probably was overreacting and probably looked a dayum fool to anyone looking out of the window.

We would hang out during the day too. He introduced me to a lot of his friends who lived in the development. His closest friend was Penelope. Penelope was a sweetheart but she was the epitome of a hood chick. Two kids, no job, drinking malt liquor, spitting, smoking, doing the hair of all the girls in the projects, all the stereotypes. One day me Michael and Penelope were sitting outside on a bench. It was like 12 or 1 o'clock in the afternoon. Penelope was smoking and drinking and then she said she had to pee and motioned to get up. She scooted up on the bench a little. Next thing I know she pulled her shorts forward toward her knees and pissed right there on the ground sitting next to me, in the middle of the day, in the summer, in the courtyard of the projects, full of people, mostly children. I had never been so shocked and appalled in all my life. I was dumbfounded. All I remember is seeing this strong, yellow stream of urine hitting the ground hard. I remember moving my feet as not to let the river of urine flow toward my shoes. I couldn't help it but every bourgeois molecule inside of me boiled over and I said:

"Oh my God, Penelope, you pee like a boy!"

I made light of it but secretly I was disgusted, I was the only person who had an adverse reaction to it though. Everyone else moved on with their day as normal, even Michael. I guess this was normal for them. At that moment I questioned how I would fit in here and whether I even wanted to. If Penelope did this, what does Michael do that I haven't seen? I was starting to feel really uncomfortable in the projects. And I know if my parents knew where I was spending my days they would flip. I was raised differently and as much as you may try deviate from how you were raised it can still have a hold on you, whether positive or negative. I really loved him but I knew deep down that this was not going to last so I just decided to enjoy it while I could but at that moment somebody flipped over the hourglass.

One day I was gonna come over to hang out with him and he canceled on me. Y'all know how much I hate that. I saw him the next day and he told me the reason why we couldn't hang out the day before. The police came and arrested Penelope's brother, who so happens to be the neighborhood drug dealer. The federal agents were coming to do a search on Penelope's apartment, where her brother was also staying. Michael and Penelope spent all of the day before ridding the house of contraband. Well at least he had a good reason, right?

While we were outside Penelope asks Michael to let her in his apartment upstairs. She said that she needed to go and make twenty dollars real quick. We all end up upstairs in Michael's room. Penelope walks in and Michael hands her a small package from way in the back of his closet. She takes it and leaves. I ask:

"What was that?"

"Crack."

"Crack, what you mean crack?"

"Penelope is gonna to sell it to one of the fiends outside."

"Wait a minute. That's crack, like real live crack, crack! Like I'll suck yo dick for two dollars, crack?"

"Yeah"

"Oh hayell no' I thought. I don't know much about the criminal justice system as I have never gotten as much as a parking ticket before but I do know that if the police walked in we'd all be going to jail. Needless to say that was the beginning of the end for me and Michael. By that time we had been having some other issues and this only magnified them. Even though I loved him a lot (a little too much, but that's a whole 'nother blog post) we ended our relationship soon after for unrelated reasons.

Me and Michael obviously weren't meant to be. We were just too different. Some would say that I should have stayed around him and helped him to change, to make him better. I don't feel as though I'm any quote-unquote better than Michael. I just make and have made different decisions. To try to be an influence on him would imply that his way of life is wrong and mine is right. Of course I don't advocate the sale of illegal drugs and I let him know how I felt about it but that's all I could do. I know that that kind of life wasn't good for me. Sometimes an unsuccessful trial at a different way of life gives us the confidence not to change.

And don't get me wrong. I know that everyone is who lives in the projects does not live like the people mentioned in this blog post. This is my personal experience. The life you live is dictated more by your state of mind than the state you live in. But I still do believe that your surroundings can influence you.

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Playing In The Background...
"Healing"
by Kelly Price
from the album "This Is Who I Am"
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