Sunday, May 1, 2011

Sad State of Affairs in Williams Pub

My 10 year old already knows what cooked heroin smells like.  There is something seriously wrong with that statement.

The other night me and LB decided to meet up at Williams for a delicious beverage and chit chat and Roan wanted to join me.  He was forewarned that he would be bored but he still wanted to come.  But low and behold excitement prevailed.  Some sketchbag (after foraging through the cutlery at the kitchen window) stopped and asked some random woman behind us if she was finished with her coffee spoon to which she replied yes after trying to take in exactly what he was asking and frankly trying to understand why he was even asking her.  He then proceeded to the washroom where he remained for approximately 10 minutes.   I quickly deduced that he was cooking heroin in there and shooting up.  LB thought maybe he needed it to scoop out hard poop.  Perhaps he was constipated.  Of course Roan just wanted to use the washroom.  (I didn't let him, secretly I knew I was right, LB was wrong)  After 10 minutes he stumbled out of the washroom clearly messed up and left the coffee bar.  Roan immediately headed for the bathroom where he stopped short of entering because it 'stunk' in there.  I asked him if it indeed smelled like poo (cause LB has been known to be right once in a while) and he said no, a burnt sugary, syrupy smell.  Like a sweet burnt smell.  I said, oh good Roan, now you know what heroin smells like, stay away from it.

I should have let Roan open the door to the washroom and toss random spoons at the guy, while he was in there, like he originally wanted to.

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