Crazy Larry

I really have to go to bed. Just had a long chat with an old friend and I have to be up to “work” in a few hours. But I was delighted by the fact that many of my old friends (well, okay… a few) totally remembered the lemon lady. So just to keep the content flowing, and because I am curious is people remember this guy. I present to you, Crazy Larry:

I was maybe thirteen or fourteenish when I first smoked pot. Most people in my school were actually doing stuff like homework and sports and listening to their parents, so coming up with pot wasn’t so easy. Maybe if you were like 17 it was, but at my young age you had to know somebody. My friend and I had planned to hang out with these two guys after school and get stoned. They claimed they had a source. His name was Larry.

I don’t know who’s apartment this went down in, or where the parents were. But somehow, my friend and I met up with the guys from school and they brought Larry. He came through on the promised weed, and that was the first time I ever got stoned. And MAN, did I ever. To this day it is like chasing the dragon. I have never to date been as stoned as I was then. It’s a whole different story…

The provider of this amazing weed was Larry. He was a maybe forty-ish Hispanic guy who either spoke very little English, or was just too shy to socialize. It was weird that he was hanging out with us young kids, and who know where he got the pot from, but it was a win-win, because he probably made some money and saw some crazy shit, and all of us newly minted teenagers got introduced to the amazing world of marijuana.

After that intitial first time drug experience, my friend and I became savvy in the high school drug trade and didn’t need to involve Larry in our lives, but he popped up when I started working at Bob’s.

One day Larry walked into Bob’s. My friend Francine and I were working. He might have ordered a burger or something, but he definitely ordered coffee. We gave him his order and then huddled behind the bun rack and furiously whispered to one another “Is that Larry, the drug dealer?!”. “Yeah definitely”. “oh, how exciting!!!”

Maybe because we were pleased to have him, Larry started coming in regularly for coffee. The thing was, Larry was not cool at all like you might imagine a drug dealer to be (or maybe you don’t?) , he was barely verbal, so I am not sure how he even negotiated these teenage pot deals. He was very modest and humble, and I feel badly saying this, but what I remember most about him was this SMELL. I can only describe it as diaper powder. This weird, kind of baby powder smell that was incredibly strong. I am not saying that in a way to put him down, just saying that is what I remember about him, and I thought it was strange, and yeah, a little off putting. But maybe he thought he smelled great, who knows. There are certainly worse smells. But I can tell you that 20+ years later if I catch a whiff of something even remotely resembling it, I think of Larry.

Francine and I used to make a pot of double strong coffee for ourselves because we worked the closing shift and felt that we had shit to do afterwards. Larry came in once for his coffee and we said “oh, all we have is this super strong coffee – is that okay?” He said yes and drank it. He must have given us some sign of approval, because whenever he came in after that and asked for coffee we would be like ” Do you want the SPECIAL coffee Larry?” And his whole face would light up and he would nod happily.

And That’s Larry for ya.

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