Jeremy

I knew they would be work the moment they sat down. They stumbled to the table and fell into the booth. She spilled the drink she had, he just looked at me with a vacant stare.

His words were hard to understand as I bent over to clean up the mess.

Coffee. Lots of coffee. And orange juice. I should probably have orange juice.

I went to get their drinks, dreading the return to the table. To them. Its normal to have hungover people come in on a Sunday. But knowing it is going to happen never makes it easier. 

But they were different. The return to the table quickly let me know why.

Rough ride. I am on a rough ride. Too much crack. Lots of coke. Seemed fun at the time. It alwaysdoes. I think this time may kill me.

His hands were shaking. His girlfriend puts her earphones in and turns on her Ipod. She closes her eyes and inhales her cigarette.

Pancakes. Eggs over easy. He needs food. It may help.

I leave to put in their order and tend to some other customers. I then hear a bang and realize they had spilled their drinks again. I rush over to clean it up. As I am wiping up the brownish liquid, he smiles at me. In that moment, I am not staring at a customer coming down off of Crack. I am staring at Jeremy.

His eyes always got to me. They were so deep, always looking older than his 35 years. As I would later find out, it was because he had already lived so many lives.

Heroin at 14 . . . .

Losing a prestigious job. The youngest manager of a five star hotel fired for stealing pain pills. 

He introduced me to music, books, movies, ideals and new beers.  

A Bronx Tale helped me see how sweet it is to reach over and unlock a mans door. 

Celestine Prophecy making me cry as it put into words what i had been feeling about God and religion for so long.

Sunset in July and Whiskey and Wine introducing me to a laid back California sound that I still love.

I sometimes wonder if it was my fault he started using again.

I had hurt myself months before we met. The doctor prescribed pain pills. I never took them. Instead I stuck them in a drawer and forgot about them. Jeremy came up early one night while I was working and surprised me by cleaning up the house and making me dinner. 

I didnt know until a few weeks later he had cleaned thoroughly enough to find the pills and my tip money. Maybe he set it up perfectly to find the pills.  I had casually mentioned the injury and the pills to him in a passing conversation. It never occurred to me to worry since he never showed signs of using again.

I was wrong.

We spent New Years Eve together. I woke up to an empty house on New Years day. The pills were gone along with my money. 

I didnt hear from him again for a week. Apologies. Excuses. And a lot of lies.  

Michelle, you threw the pills away, remember?

Michelle, you had put the money in your wallet, remember?

Michelle, I left because I was scared by how much I love you and needed time to think.

I've only seen him twice since then. Once as a fool, the second time for a good-bye. I wanted closure.

His eyes no longer looked wise, but vacant. Glassy. He couldnt focus on me, restless, always looking around. But it gave me the closure I needed and I walked away.

I finished waiting on the couple and waited for them to pay. He handed me $40.00 and said to keep the change. A pretty big tip. As I walked away, I heard him holler out. 

You dropped some money.

I went back and he handed me a fifty. It had fallen out when I put the other money in.

I am on a pretty rough ride. I need all the good Karma I can get.

As they left, I no longer saw Jeremy. Instead, I saw someones son. Brother. Friend. And from the conversations I overheard, knows that his choices may kill him. . . . 

. . . . and is okay with that.