March 3rd in Posso's Prompts

“So in the end, was it worth it? Jesus Christ. How irreparably changed my life has become. It’s always the last day of summer and I’ve been left out in the cold with no door to get back in. I’ll grant you I’ve had more than my share of poignant moments. Life passes most people by while they’re making grand plans for it. Throughout my lifetime, I’ve left pieces of my heart here and there. And now, there’s almost not enough to stay alive. But I force a smile, knowing that my ambition far exceeded my talent. There are no more white horses or pretty ladies at my door.” - George Jung, Blow

Speaking of illustrious trips to Potawatomi Bingo and Casino, one time I was so unintentionally coked out of my mind that I had to sit at the buffet in the casino at a table meant for six, by myself, with 10 plates of food to try and straighten myself out to drive back to Madison in a $35,000 car that was meant to be resold.
I used to work at a pizza place on state street that was run by Albanians. The man in charge decided that he wanted to get into the business of importing high end cars from Europe for cheap and resell them to people in America for a large profit. Usually he had people that would go to Chicago and take care of these vehicles; pick them up, drive them to Madison or corresponding areas to have them detailed, ‘cleaned’ and sold. One day, a driver backed out (actually, he got picked up in Illinois with a large amount of drugs and was not getting out of prison anytime soon) and I was working my day shift at the pizza place when he walked in and said, ‘maybe you do me a favor and take bus to Chicago and drive nice new BMW SUV back home for me.’ Sure, sounds like a question but I knew I didn’t have an option, ha.
So there I was, on a coach bus to Chicago about 45 minutes after my shift. All I had to do was taxi to the port, show these papers I had in my pocket, get the keys and drive through Milwaukee on my way back to Madison. The last part seemed odd but I figured I could stop at the casino for a bit and show off this car that I knew I would never be seen in again. Getting the car was definitely problem free and super easy. The fucker had GPS so I couldn’t even get lost in the scuzzy part of Indiana/Illinois that I was super unfamiliar with. The trip was stress free just about until the Illinois/Wisconsin border when I started hearing some clunking sounds over the radio that I was blasting. I wasn’t sure if it was the A/C so i turned it up a little when I heard another clunk and simultaneously a cloud of white shot out of the car vents. I knew right away this was not going to be good. I rolled the windows down and turned the air off. Fifteen minutes later I was high as a kite, calling people blasting music and leaving voicemails laughing about how blitzed on ventilated cocaine I was. My heart was racing, I was drenched in sweat while it was maybe sixty degrees outside and I kept singing to myself in a panicked, skittish, maniacal frenzy. I was 20 minutes from Poto and I needed food to try and gain a base for the swift amount of fucked up I felt.
I valeted at the casino (definitely not the smartest idea as the inside of the car was coated in a powder but fuck if i was going to park a beemer in general parking in a shit part of Milwaukee) and went it and beelined straight for my most favorite buffet in Wisconsin. I asked for a table of six, by myself, and the girls just looked at me, paused, and then didnt argue as they walked me to my table. I wish I still had the picture I sent people of the ten plus plates of food I had in front of me that varied from pasta to cheeseburgers, eight kinds of cake or brownie dessert, ice cream in drinking cups, a plate of just gravy. Anyone with a mind knew I was fucked beyond royally. There is literally no memory of eating or drinking or even making the hour long trek from Milwaukee to Madison. When I got back, I said, “I don’t know what was in there but it blew up and I never want to do this again.” My boss didn’t know there was packages in the vehicle either and after that day I did not see an Albanian I worked with at the pizza place for a good couple of years.

Yet, here I am.