Tag Archives: addict

Talking with a drug addict

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A few weeks ago I was driving through an intersection when I noticed a transient standing on the median with a sign asking for money. On my second pass around the area I saw the same guy step into the street against the “Don’t Walk” symbol as he walked in front of a car. That’s when I decided I was going to stop and talk with him.

I parked my car in the driveway of a gas station and waited for him to come over to the corner. I told him hi and asked to speak with him. He waved both hands in the air as he said, “Come on man. I’m starving. I’m just trying to make some money.”

I told him I wanted talk for two reasons. The first was about walking in front of the car. The second was because someone had just taken money from the tip jar at my favorite chicken restaurant 100 yards down the street. I gave him the description of the suspect and asked if he had seen that guy walking around here.

He calmed down after hearing that and told me he liked the food at that restaurant too. He also said he hadn’t seen anyone that fit the description.

I then decided to ask him questions about how long he’d been on the street, where he grew up and where his family was. For the next 15 to 20 minutes he talked about being addicted to heroin, being homeless and not being able to walk away from living on the street. He told me where he grew up and said his mother sometimes visited him out here.

I felt bad for his mother and wondered what she had gone through over the years, yet she still drove out to visit him on the street. Based on where she lived, she had to take two different freeways to get here.

I asked him about being able to go back home for help. The man, who was in his early 30s, said he could, but he always ended up back on the street because of his addiction.

I asked how him much he spent a day on heroin. He said, “I spent $45 today and I didn’t even get high. I’m pissed.” He then said, “I spent enough to stay well.”

We talked for a little while longer about what it’s like to have withdrawal symptoms and how he started using drugs, along with his time in jail. He had been nice to me and spoke freely about his problems so I asked, “Do you want a sandwich?”

His eyes lit up as he said, “Yes.”

“It’s salami.”

“I love salami.”

I walked over to my car and got the sandwich out of my cooler. I went back to where he was and handed it to him.

He smiled as he said, “Thanks officer. What’s your name?” I told him and we said goodbye.

I drove away still thinking about his mother coming out to visit him. That wasn’t the first time I’ve heard about a parent coming out to see their homeless adult child on the street. We never wonder about the families and what they sometimes go through. It’s something to think about.

Mom of the year (NOT)

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Brain on drugs

It’s not every day you get to meet the worst mom of the year. Actually, she’s pregnant, so she’s really the “future worst mom of the year.”

I’ve met some bad mothers in my time as an officer, but this latest one deserves mentioning. I got to meet her at an unknown trouble call the other day where people were possibly fighting at a house.

When I arrived, I parked a few houses down. There was a woman outside where I parked and she asked if everything was alright.

I said, “We don’t know yet. We’re going to a house down the street.”

“It must be the drug house,” she said with a smirk.

“Which house are you talking about?”

“The green one,” She replied.

Yep. She was talking about the house we were going to. When we got to the green house, the “future mom of the year” was contacted by other officers at the front door. She came outside and I spoke to her to try and figure out what happened.

She was in her early twenties and didn’t make sense. I started to wonder if she was stealing oxygen from the rest of us or if she had other issues.

After about five minutes, I was sure she was an oxygen thief. She was the perfect example of the old “This is your brain on drugs” commercials.

I asked her when she last took speed. She said, “Recently.” She wasn’t tweaking now, but I’m sure “recently” meant today.

I continued to waste my time with her as I tried to find out what happened when she told me she was pregnant. I have no idea why she brought that up because I didn’t ask. I then asked her how far along she was. She would only tell me she was a few weeks pregnant.

I’m asked her how long she had been doing speed. At this point, she figured out she said too much. She told me it didn’t have anything to do with the reason why we were there. She also told me it wasn’t any of my business.

I walked over to where her mother was and asked if her daughter was pregnant. The soon to be grandma said her daughter was one month pregnant. I also asked her how long her daughter had been doing methamphetamine. The woman said her daughter had been doing speed for about a year.

I asked her if she had ever spoken to her daughter about drug use and being pregnant. The woman said her daughter told her to mind her own business.

I asked if she knew who the “baby’s daddy” was. This caused the woman to smile. I said, “I just like saying the phrase baby’s daddy,” which caused her to laugh.

She said, “His name is Frog.”

“Frog? As in not a prince?”

“I only know him as Frog. He’s short.”

Well, where do you go in a conversation after hearing the Baby’s Daddy is Frog?

Let’s just hope this kid isn’t born looking like a frog because of her drug use. It’s a shame because this kid has no chance.

By the way, I called child protective services to about this. They told me they don’t take reports unless the child is already born. Oh well, I tried.

Frank’s Back

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Frank’s back!

A few days ago I posted a story about a drug addict and thief named Frank, who I met while doing my DRE certifications. They story got people talking because it’s been viewed over 4,300 times on Facebook.

If that story got you upset, then this one should leave you wondering WFT?

Last night I was back at Fullerton PD doing my DRE certifications and guess who I saw? If you said Frank, you’re right. He was under the influence again.

Part of me was surprised and part wasn’t shocked at all.

As soon as I saw Frank, I instantly thought of the story I wrote about him the other day. Frank wasn’t worried about jail then. And guess what? He’s still not worried about it now. Prop 47 says he gets a citation.

It’s his “get out of jail free” card. Actually, it’s a pink copy of his citation.

Remember, the citation is just the cost of doing business to Frank. As long as he signs his ticket he gets out of jail. If he gets a fine he just has to pay it. And where do you think he’ll get his money from?

You again!

He’s a thief and a criminal. That’s the way he described himself last week. Frank steals to pay for his meth, so that means he’ll  probably steal to pay for his fine too.

So, Frank just needs to visit your house, business or break into your car to get the money to pay off his debt. Problem solved. His fine is paid and he gets to roam your neighborhood to feed his habit. Oh, I forgot to mention that Frank is also a documented gang member.

Not to rub it in, but Frank would’ve stayed in custody if it wasn’t for Prop 47.

Some people think being under the influence is a “victimless crime.” Well, tell that to the person whose house or car was broken into. They’ll tell you they felt violated and were the real victims.

Who thought Prop 47 was a good idea anyways? Oh yeah, the people who voted it in. The Franks of the world thank you for it.

Where Does An Addict Get His Money?

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The other night I went to Fullerton PD for my DRE certifications as part of the class I completed a few weeks ago. I had an interesting conversation with a suspect and I wanted to share it with people who are not familiar with addicts.

 

First of all, most of these people don’t have jobs, but they need income to support their habit. Where do you think they get their money from?
From you!

 

These addicts break into your cars, your houses and your businesses. They steal and then steal some more.

 

During our conversation I asked him how often he uses meth and marijuana. Without hesitation he replied, “Every day.”

 

“How do you feel when you don’t do meth?
“I get anxiety.”
“Does the drug make you feel well?” I asked.
“Yeah.”
“Do you drink?”
“No.”
“How come?”
“Because I lose everything when I drink.”
“What do you mean?”
“I lose my car and I go to jail. So, now I don’t drink at all.”
“How many DUI’s do you have?”
“Two.”
“How much do you spend a day on meth?”
“$300.”
“Do you have a job?”
“No.”

 

Let’s assume he over estimated his daily usage. Either way he still needs money for his habit. Where do you think he gets that money from?

 

“Where do you steal from?” I asked.
“I don’t do anything in my city. I have pride in my city.”

 

It seemed like he really wanted me to understand he had pride in his city and it was important to him that I knew that. I asked him more questions about his thefts, but he didn’t want to tell me. At one point he smiled and said, “I’m a criminal.”

 

At least he knows it.

 

Is this a guy you want roaming around your city? Absolutely not, but guess what? He was cited out. He was cited out like all the people who were arrested for being under the influence of a drug that night.

 

He was cited out because of Prop 47 in California. Prior to Prop 47, he would’ve remained in custody for the under the influence and drug paraphernalia charges. Now we have to cite him out. I’m sure that pink copy of the citation made him feel bad.

 

He said he normally starts to feel the anxiety about six hours after doing meth. That means he’s ready for more meth or he has to find more before that feeling of anxiety takes over.

 

Guess what he’s going to do if he’s short on cash?  You guessed it. He’s going to rip someone off.

 

I still find it shocking that people in California voted for Prop 47 and allow people like Frank to be out on the street to do their thing.

 

What if Frank gets caught stealing at a store? He’ll get another citation for petty theft. That’s just an inconvenience to Frank. It’s the cost of doing business.

 

Eventually things will catch up with Frank, but right now he only has to worry about a citation. County jail time is the least of his worries.

 

Frank’s job is stealing and getting high. At thirty-one years old he’s got all the time in the world.