So let me take you back before the accident. But not before the drugs and excess. Or is it excess of drugs? Anyways, I was introduced to Thomas auspiciously one early autumn afternoon in the city. I had just disembarked from the R5 at University Station and was about to make my usual leisurely trek to Penn's main library to meet my dealer Jamal, when a familiar voice beckoned from behind.
"Frederick, brother? Is that you man?"
This guy. Turned out to be Patrick Rothman. I'm pretty sure everyone knows this type of kid : adopted, Jewish family, went through a "Black" phase, graduated from said "Black" phase into some kind of hybrid frat/lacrossey phase, only friends that he has steal from him when they get invited to his house, drug addict social misfit. Long story short, turned out good ol' Patty had come across some pretty strong K (a.k.a. Ketamine a.k.a. Horse Tranquilizer) earlier in the day and was just then falling into the velvet hazy K-cave of no return. Luckily, or unluckily for him, he was being supported by some helpful passerby.
"You know this guy? Then give me a hand and help me set him over there on that rank bench."
With a good 'thwack' Patty's head cracked atop the wooden bench. Our mutual burden absolved, I turned to head towards Franklin Field when I noticed my new friend was heading in the same direction. Having no agoraphobic tendencies I decided to broach the sphere of casual conversation.
Turns out he was going to meet the same Jamal to buy the same weed. Then, in classic Thomas-fashion, this sly-ass grin began unfolding across his face and he proceeded to reach into his impeccably tailored Italian slacks grabbing a fat wad of cash along with a veritable Halloween bag full of every pharmaco pill imaginable that he had snatched out of Patty's pocket moments earlier. We both took a knee - right there in the middle of the platform - and raised our pointed index fingers to the sky.
Patrick, it turned out, had been drugged by angels sent down from upon high so that Thomas and myself would not only meet, but have our souls welded together in what turned out to be an epic, narcotic fueled autumn afternoon of absolute debauchery replete with hookers, at least one potential case of grand theft auto, numerous misdemeanors, one dead hooker and the odd poetry reading (Blackthought if you must know). Needless to say it was from that day on, Thomas and I embarked upon our inseparable friendship. We were both 11 years old. And Thomas is a doll.
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http://kayageetheworld.blogspot.kr/2011/02/phillyish-child-ish.html?m=1
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