Gay Meth Addict gets Threatened When Dealer Makes Bail

Slammed: a Memoir — Chapter 7 Part 5

“You know I called your mom and told her to come get you,” Reid said.

“You’re kidding! When?”

We were standing at the living room window of my New York apartment watching the annual spring Little League parade march down Nagle Avenue. Jason was sitting at my computer checking his email. It had been two days since my second coming out as a meth addict, a week since the Tina ran out, and two weeks since Jackson’s arrest.

“When you lost all that weight and were acting all weird, hiding in your apartment. Ow.” Reid gently held the left side of his face. Poor thing was between root canals and whatever pain meds they gave him didn’t seem to be working.

It was so great to be hanging out with my two best friends again. It felt like everything really could go back to the way things were. That, like Bugs Bunny, I had taken a wrong turn at Albuquerque but was back on the correct path and all was well again.

Jason was staying with me for a few days, helping me clean up after Jackson and the DEA. And, fuck, what a mess.

When Jackson was arrested in New Jersey, I made a deal with the DEA so I didn’t get tagged with all the shit left behind in his room. I gave them permission to enter my apartment and with a warrant for his room they searched and confiscated any and all drugs and drug-related materials.

When I finally returned to my apartment, I didn’t want to go in. My door seemed foreign to me, like I was standing at the wrong apartment in the wrong building. I had visions of neighbors gazing through peepholes seeing large, thick men in Kevlar vests and dark jackets with “DEA” in bright yellow on their backs as they entered my apartment with tools and a battering ram and who knows what all.

I slowly walked down the long hallway as if I was an intruder. Nothing seemed out of order until I turned the corner to see the door to Jackson’s room. At least, where there had been a door. It had been completely obliterated. Only a thin piece of splintered wood clung to the hinges.

Inside the room wasn’t much better. Shelves had been emptied, items scattered all around. The bed had been overturned and slashed open. The shelving units of paraphernalia and his computer were gone. One safe was taken while the other lay in the middle of the floor torn open, fragments of its concrete casing littering the area around it, the newly installed carpet singed by the blowtorch they had used to open it.

In front of the bedroom on the floor, as innocuous as a take out menu, lay the warrant.

I sat on the living room futon staring at the doorless doorway. It was a gaping wound, like they had removed a cancer without an anesthetic using rusty, jagged tools, leaving me scarred and bleeding.

“This is my home,” I whimpered, trying to convince myself. Even though I had given the DEA permission to enter, it still felt like my home had been invaded. Like it had been violated.

With Jason’s help, I was able to clean up the disaster. And poor, straight Jason. Many of the items scattered around were porn DVDs, hundreds of them. Not even good porn. Cheap, crappy, amature porn with cringeworthy stills on every disk. Skinny young men with vacant faces in awkward “sexy” poses displaying all their bits and pieces. Jason, bless his heart, gathered them all up into a disk tower of filth and set them aside leaving me to decide what to do with them.

By the time Reid came over, the bulk of the mess had been cleaned up so he didn’t have much to do aside from listen to me fill him in on all that had transpired.

“You know, I don’t actually think I’d been in a courtroom before that?”

The drum corps that always followed the Little League parade was right in front of our building…so I didn’t hear the bing of an instant message from my computer.

“Uh, John?” Jason said. Reid and I looked at him. “I think you want to take a look at this.”

I walked up behind Jason and looked at the computer screen.

“Oh…shit. Move, move, let me sit down.”

Jason relinquished the chair.

Jackson: John……this is me please respond baby boy!!

Jackson: And by me I mean Jackson?

Me: Jackson?

Jackson: Yes bro……just got sprung tonight…mom put up 15,000 in cash.

Jackson: How are you?

Jackson: I need to see u guys……I am scared shitless

Jackson: got to know who what where and when

Me: 7 days sober

Jackson: glad to hear it

Jackson: Are you there bro?

Me: Jackson, contact with you between either me or Richard is not a good idea in any respect.

Jackson: Just sent Richard a message

Me: Richard will not respond to you

Me: What do you know about the apartment

Jackson: I understand that on a legal level but one must consider what and who a friend is and needs to be in a time of need

Jackson: This is human nature I am speaking of and if you don’t know me by now you never will…

Jackson: As for the apartment……is my room secure?

Me: the DEA has been here and gone, anything within the room was taken, one safe gone, the other forced open

Me: With a warrant

Me: Both of us have been advised that contact with you is EXTREMELY compromising to either of our situations

Jackson: Do you have the paperwork from the search warrant?

Me: Yes

Jackson: Everything in the room was taken?

Me: Yes

Jackson: When was the warrant served?

Me: Tue

Jackson: Can you scan a copy of the warrant for me?

Me: The warrant was for your room, they had my permission into the apartment itself.

Jackson: really?

Me: I can scan it and send you a copy.

Jackson: Please

Jackson: Along with a list of confiscated things? They are required by law to provide a list of all things removed upon removal

Jackson: …

Jackson: I do not understand

Me: This will sound cold and cruel but you cannot come back to the apartment, if you do, my landlord and his son who also lives on the same floor will call the police.

Jackson: That is fine…can u provide proof to me asap of items removed in writing by the DEA of what state did you say?

Me: Southern District of New York

Jackson: And yes all things considered, IT IS COLD AFTER ALL I HAVE DONE……BUT ANYWAY YOU LEARN WHO YOUR FRIENDS ARE SOONER OR LATER…DON’T YOU!!!

Me: Your anger is understandable. It may be selfish, but my main concern is hanging onto my apartment that I am VERY close to losing, as well as not being charged with anything myself.

Jackson: AMAZING HOW I AM SO NEEDED AT SOME TIMES AND FORGOTTEN AT OTHERS…………SORRY IF I SOUND BITTER BUT I AM A STAND UP GUY WHO PROTECTS THOSE I LOVE AND FEEL SOMEWHAT BETRAYED RIGHT NOW………

Me: If I could share with you the utter joy of letting my friends and family back into my life, I would. Then I would hope you would understand the actions I’m taking.

Jackson: I UNDERSTAND AND FEEL NO ANIMOSITY TOWARD YOU BRO……sorry for the caps……would it be ok if my cousin sets up a time to come see the apartment along with my attorney to photograph whatever is left.

Me: Unfortunately, I have already cleaned up the disaster left behind by the DEA.

Jackson: So I assume that the “DEA” has left you with an inventory of what was removed from the room that was allegedly rented by me?

Jackson: As required by law?

Me: There is. I will scan it for you now and see if I can’t send you the file.

Jackson: You just mentioned that only one safe was pried into……where is the other?

Me: Taken. It’s going to take me a few since the scanner isn’t connected to the computer at the moment.

Jackson: Please scan all information to me now as I am with my attorney who would like to see the information……at this time since it appears that I am somehow being linked to this apartment housing complex.

Jackson: He will need this info to help in my defense preparation……I also need to know what the fuck?

Jackson: Would you prefer to talk in person if you can find time tomorrow afternoon……I can meet with you……

Me: I’m sorry Jackson, but I’m not going to meet with you in person

Jackson: ok fine……CAN YA FEEL THE LOVE FRIEND?

Jackson: FINE SO IN THE MEANTIME SINCE WE ARE NOT IN THE SAME BOAT ANYMORE……GRAB A LIFE VEST AND WATCH FOR SHARKS……I WAS HOPING TO BRING SOME POSITIVE LIGHT TO THE TABLE AS A REAL FUCKIING PERSON MIGHT DO FOR A FRIEND BUT I CAN SEE THAT I AM NOT NEEDED ANYMORE…LOL……WHAT A SURPRIZE?

Jackson: I WOULD ALSO ASSUME THAT YOU WERE ARRESTED UNDER THE PRESUMPTION THAT SAID CONTENTS OF THE APARTMENT WERE IN YOUR NAME OR DID YOU LOOK OUT FOR YOURSELF WHILE I TRY TO PROTECT THE ONES I CARE FOR?

Jackson: NO?

Jackson: NEED TO ANSWER THAT ONE BRO!!

Me: I was not arrested

Jackson: ALTHOUGH I HAVE NO KNOWLEDGE OF WHAT ALL WAS FOUND IN YOUR APARTMENT……DID I RENT A ROOM FROM YOU SIR?

Jackson:?

Jackson:SEND ALL INFO TO THIS E MAIL PLEASE AND THANKS FOR BEING REAL AND STAND UP WHEN DANGER STARES YOU IN THE FACE……

Me: Jackson, I keep logs of all my instant messages, there has been a friend of mine reading this entire conversation over my shoulder as witness and my friend from across the hall can identify you as having resided here far too often to have been a simple visitor.

Jackson: WAITING FOR SAID INFO AS I SUPPOSEDLY AM LINKED TO THIS NONSENCE FOUND AT YOUR RESIDENCE AND PLEASE BY ALL MEANS……COVER YOUR OWN ASS AND FUCK THOSE WHO HELP YOU………NICE GRATITUDE AND ATTITUTDE FROM A GOOD FRIEND……GLAD YOU GOT WHAT YOU NEEDED NOW KILL THE BULLSHIT AS MY ATTORNEY IS PRESENT AND AWAITING DOCUMENTS FROM ONE WHO FINDS NO RESPONSIBILITY IN A LOST ACTING CAREER!!! GOOD LUCK AND YOUR WELCOME………

Jackson: ATTORNEY IS WAITING AS WE SPEAK WITH LAPTOP ON AND ONLINE……HOPE ALL GOES WELL BUT WATCH YOUR BACK AS SOME PEOPLE TO NOT TAKE THIS SHIT LITELY. NOT A THREAT FROM ME AS I HAVE NOT A CLUE WHAT THIS IS ALL ABOUT BUT OTHERS HAVE BEEN IMPLICATED IN YOUR EVIL CHATTING WAYS…………BE SAFE AND GOD BLESS…NO ANIMOSITY HERE AS NO INVOLVEMENT=NO BLAME

Jackson: PLEASE INCLUDE LIST OF ALL INVENTORY AS WELL SINCE YOU SEEM TO WANT TO INVOLVE ME IN THIS DANGEROUS GAME OF CAT AND MOUSE

Jackson: E MAIL ASAP……STANDING BY

Jackson: STILL STANDING BY

I stopped responding.

I couldn’t get my scanner working so I also never sent him the warrant.

While cleaning up, I discovered a memory box of life long mementos and important documents which revealed, at least in part, who Jackson really was.

Jackson was born Eric Matthew Kats on October 23rd, 1974. At 19 he was diagnosed with HIV and Hepatitis B. After moving to Las Vegas, he was arrested at 22 or 23 on multiple drug trafficking charges for meth, heroin, and cocaine, for which he spent 5 years in a Nevada penitentiary. When I first met him in the summer of 2003 he had only just been released and moved back to New Jersey.

Jackson’s, or should I say Eric’s, memory box also contained grade school coloring books, dozens upon dozens of pictures of I assume family and friends, and a stack of greeting cards from his mother sent to him in prison. Here was the very roadmap of his life filled with turning points and defining moments including his medical and criminal history. All of which gave me a better understanding of who Jackson was. No sympathy, but better understanding.

I couldn’t imagine how traumatic it must have been to receive an HIV diagnosis at 19 in the early ’90s when it was still very much a death sentence. This didn’t lead to an overwhelming amount of empathy from me, however, as Jackson had flat out lied about his status.

The previous fall I had been tagging along with him while he ran errands in New Jersey. With his usual bubbly lightness, he regaled me with his exploits as an escort.

“And just so you know,” he confided, “I’m clean as a whistle. You can’t do what I do and not get checked out. Every six months, like you’re supposed to, I get tested. I’m totally negative.”

Neither the fact that he was lying, nor that I so easily believed him, surprised me in hindsight.

But had he been lying to everyone? Over the last decade? As far as I knew, he and Richard had never fucked, and neither had we for that matter as he couldn’t stay hard long enough. Again, the slam was sex to him. And the one thing I never did was share needles.

But what about all his Johns? How many had he exposed? He may have been on medication — though I doubt he or any tweaker could faithfully commit to a daily regimen. Still, to flat out lie about your status? The audacity of his deception balanced the scales making me feel not so bad about selling him out to the DEA.

That being said, I did feel bad. His arrest may have been the best thing to happen to me, but it sure as hell didn’t feel like it. Instead, It felt like I had sacrificed a friend to save my own ass, because, well, I had.

I returned all his memories and cards and photographs to his memory box and stored them in a closet with bags of all his clothes and other belongings. At some point I was going to have to return the stuff he left behind, but since he was playing the “did I rent a room from you sir” angle, I felt I had some time.

A week after our instant message conversation Jackson was arrested again, this time on Federal drug charges.

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