Monday, August 25th, 2003

I’m on a cruise ship being confronted by a drug dealer. He’s a combination of Milton from Office Space, Tobey from American Splendor and a street thug. He’s talking about ratting me out to the authorities. I knock him down and press my fist (or foot) against his head. I then write out a contract stating that he’ll not rat me out. I also stipulate that if/when he sees me in the future, he’ll turn around and walk away. He is defiant and says he won’t do it.

I finish writing out the note and he looks at it. It has a prescription written out for him. He’s suspicious of me and I smile slyly, trying to make him think I’ve gotten one over on him.