You know you have a problem when.....

My name is Kimberly and I’m a caffeine addict.  I openly admit it. I own it. From Starbucks lattes to giant morning mugs of coffee to bottles of Diet Coke and Diet Dr. Pepper, I have developed a pretty serious caffeine habit over the years.  It wakes me in the morning and keeps me going in the afternoon.  Truthfully though, it seems to have gotten slightly worse since I started working here. I HAVE TO HAVE my Diet Dr. Pepper every afternoon like clockwork. It’s mental now…an obsession…my legal addictive stimulate.   

I try to stop in the morning.  I stop in the same little place on Silas Deane and it’s the same little guy.  No telling what he must think as I take my normal French Vanilla Green Mountain and my Diet Dr. Pepper (hereon referred to as DDP).  But today it was snowing and icy and David drove me in.  Bless his sweet heart, he did have a travel mug of Starbucks coffee in the car waiting for me when he pulled up (PERFECT!), but I didn’t have a DDP for the afternoon and didn’t stop to get one. 

I know I mentioned before that I don’t work in the loveliest area that CT has to offer.  CT has its extremes ….water…boats….money….land….big, old postcard houses…a dream world for some….a land of the wealthy. There are the more “typical neighborhoods” like where I live, but they are still safe and clean and pretty. And then there are the cities, like Hartford and New Haven, which are full of poverty and violence and drugs and it’s REALLY scary.  (at least from what I see on the news)  I mean….REALLY scary.  Kinda reminds me of “Dangerous Minds”.  Anyway, I digress…..

I needed my DDP….my afternoon pick me up.  It’s cold here and slow with most people working at home.  I am doing some on-line Dreamweaver/CSS training (which I’ve been wanting to learn for YEARS) but I need to stay alert and focused. I can’t stop thinking about the DDP.  There’s only one thing to do…..walk across the street to the scary gas station.  I’ve been in there a couple of times. It’s dirty and smells bad and the people are scary and whatnot……..but when you have to have your fix, you have to have your fix.  Ask any addict.  

First the boots go on, then the coat and scarf. I have my earmuffs, but no gloves.  Hands in pockets, I trudge out in the snow.  There is only one set of footprints ahead of me. Only one other brave soul has been out the front door and onto the sidewalk. I try to follow in the tracks so that I keep my pants relatively dry. Whoever it was, was taller than I am, and I can’t keep up with the steps.  I miss and crunch into the snow.  The bottoms of my pants are wet. It’s snowing and I can feel snow collecting on my face and hair. I make it to the end of the sidewalk. No one is out walking, but there are plenty of cars.  I stand and wait. The snow is falling. It’s cold.  My pants are wet. I am balancing on the street corner in a pile of dirty brown sand/snow mixture and it hits me…..I really DO have a problem.  All this for a soda??  Ha! What’s wrong with me? I wait until the cars are clear both ways.  I don’t want to just dart out as it’s slippery and I might fall in the road and don’t want to be hit. I’m not a COMPLETE fool, you know.  So, I make it across the street and into the gas station.  Let me just set the scene for you: 

One. There are bars on the windows and doors.  I typically make it a habit NOT to go in a place that feels the need to protect itself like a prison.  But I need my fix. The floors are filthy from tracking in water and sand and ice all day.  But so is Macy’s entry way too….it’s the way it is around here when it snows. I need my fix. 

Two. The people inside are ….. well….they’re just scary.  What else can I say. You get the feeling that the other four people in the place (including the girl) have at least one weapon on them somewhere.  Tattoos are proudly displayed along with wads of cash. Now, I walk by quickly, trying not to make eye contact as my mom taught me to do, so I don’t know if they are $1’s or $100’s. But it is cash and it is rolled and it is out at the cashier and I pretend not to see it.  

I walk to the back and grab my DDP.  I have three dollar bills in my coat pocket.  Not nearly as impressive a wad as the previous customer who has just left the station. I walk back to stand in line to pay.  As I stand waiting my turn and trying not to make eye contact, I look around and see an interesting object out of the corner of my eye.  It’s red and pink glass and has a shiny silver lid sort of like my old green canisters.  It sparkles in this dreary place and catches my eye. How lovely, I think to myself. What is that doing in here. I stare at it a moment longer. There are several red hoses with little silver ends coming out of the glass.  It reminds me of the thing that the caterpillar had in Alice in Wonderland…….no really it DOES look like…..wait a second……is that a......then I notice it’s sitting on top of a clear glass case. I look down in the case, a little stunned. The case is filled from top to bottom with colorful glass pipes. I blink and look again….I’m standing there in utter disbelief.  It’s a floor to ceiling display of drug paraphernalia in just about the every color of glass that you could imagine.  Flowers, stripes, solids and patterns. If you know me, you know, I LOVE colored glass….LOVE IT!  For a split second it reminds me of the glass shop where my mom and aunt and I love to go and look. I think we all have a Christmas ornament and a piece of jewelry from that place. They give you a pair of white gloves when you walk in, so you can touch the jewelry and glasses without smudging them.  I’m sure my eyes are big as saucers as I am standing there…utter disbelief I tell you.  Don't get me wrong, it's TOTALLY the kind of place you'd expect drug pipes, just not ones so pretty! I look away, trying NOT to look at the display now. It’s starting to all sink in what everything is. But I have to look up one more time. What is that big red and pink thing?  A “group party” centerpiece?  The Martha Stewart Connecticut Drug Collection?  I smiled. I cracked myself up standing there in the middle of this disgusting place thinking about calling Marsha. "Marsha, Marsha, I found the perfect centerpiece for our drug party! The theme will be pink glass. We’ll have roses everywhere and silver accents." I mean, really??  What IS THAT? Is this what they use in West Hartford? What’s happening?  Where am I?  Maybe I did fall down the rabbit hole. 

There I am…..a little girl from Texas naively standing there in a place where who knows what all goes on in my little fuzzy croc boots, coat and scarf.  Soda in one hand and a couple of dollar bills in the other.  I feel about 8 years old standing in line waiting my turn to pay for my treat. It’s just not worth it, I think. I think tomorrow I’m going to drink water!