Friday, November 13, 2009
I'm Not A Junkie!
So I have to buy a syringe for a scene we are shooting tomorrow in which Danika (the Dominatrix) jabs loving mother Ruby Milldue in the butt with Sodium Pentathol. I go to the nearest drugstore and tell the Pharmacist gal my story about making my film called Rat Rod Rockers! and needing a hypodermic needle. She kinda gives me a sidelong glance and nods, like yeah right buddy, and pulls a needle from a nondescript box under the counter, then puts it in a little bag. I say I really am making a movie and maybe she did believe me, still she quickly walks me over to the register and starts to ring me up. The total is 33 cents plus tax. I didn't bring cash, so I whip out the Visa debit but then she has trouble getting it to go through. I assure her there is money in the account (yeah right junkie scum she is probably thinking). She calls over another cashier to finish the transaction, who has heard none of my movie talk. The new cashier has to re-ring the item and when she reaches in the bag she has a slightly surprised look on her face. She slowly pulls out the needle, scans it and then quickly slips it back into the little white bag. A line of impatient elderly folks is quickly forming behind me and I really don't want to get into the whole movie making thing again. She finishes the transaction, carefully hands me the needle in the bag and says slyly, "You have fun this weekend now." I wanna blurt out, "I'm not a fuckin' junkie people!" but that would make me look like even more of a junkie (which I am not- honest). As I am driving home I feel conscious of the needle in the bag. My little 33 cent needle. A cop pulls up next to me. I start to sweat. I remember all of the episodes of Cops I've seen where the Officer tell the suspect before the pat down, "you don't have anything sharp in your pockets like a knife or needle or anything." The cop in the patrol car looks over and smiles. I want to tell him I'm not a junkie, but he really doesn't give a shit. He has bigger fish to fry, like jay walkers and prostitutes. Then I remember it's Friday the 13th. It all makes sense somehow.