“I was raised in Oakland, I’m white so I used to get my ass whupped everyday. I became a professional boxer, I’m 47 and now I hang out in the Tenderloin to kick ass. No I don’t, I am an addict. I buy drugs down here. I’m just being honest. I know how to protect myself and a lot of people don’t know that. I’m not carrying this crowbar around to hurt anyone, I’m just carrying it to protect myself.”
“What kind of drugs do you do?”
“I can’t say. Are you going to put that in your story?”
“I don’t have to put anything you don’t want me to.”
“I do everything. You can say that cuz I really do. And I own a house in Petaluma. I am a functioning addict, whatever the fuck that means…that’s a lie, but anyways I have a job.”
“You seem very with it.”
“I am an addict though. At least I’m honest about it. I have kids. My mother has lung cancer, I’m taking care of her. So life sucks sometimes but I feel very lucky. I’m very blessed.”
“Do your kids know about you being an addict?”
“Oh no no no, I have three lives. My professional life, my addict life, and my family life, and I keep them all separate.”
“So are you okay with me posting all that as your story?”
“You know…then it’s not going to be private anymore. If you can word it in a way that…cuz all my family is in San Francisco.”
“Would they recognize you with that wig and hat?”
“Yeah. Just say ‘she…’, I don’t know…there’s a way to do it. I trust you to not expose me but tell my story.”
“Hmm…I may end up not-“
“I don’t lie to myself, I know that I’m living a lie but it’s what I know and it’s what I do. It’s worked so far but nothing lasts forever. My challenge is my son is my priority. If I’m dope sick, that’s not his fault and I take care of him. I’m not just saying that to sound good, that’s who I am.”
“I believe you, I can hear the truth in your voice.”
“Also, I don’t use to get high, I use to stay well.”
“Because if you stopped using you’d get sick?”
“Yeah, and I’m not part of a methadone clinic or anything like that so I just like to maintain…and I party sometimes.”
“What’s your name?”
“You call me Contessa because that’s how people know me around here.”
“Okay. Thanks for sharing your story Contessa. The thing is, I really can’t share any of that without showing you and a lot of people would see your story.”
“Maybe that’s what I want.”
“It kinda feels that way to me. Do you feel like you told me all this about your life because you’re ready for it to change?”
“Maybe so.”
“So do you want me to publish this or not?”
“Go ahead. Ah…there goes my life.”