Crackhead Jones Update
by gene slacks
As some of you may or may not know, a few issues back, when Salt for Slugs presented their "Jones" issue, I was planning on writing up an interview with a friend of mine named Crackhead Jones. Obviously, thatıs not his real name, but it fit the theme and the manıs penchant for a certain white substance. I wanted to do an interview with Mr. Jones and present the transcript of his various, usually hilarious stories to you, the reader. Unfortunately, Mr. Jones got into a little scrape with Raleighıs finest and ended up not being able to be reached for comment. So, for you, gentle reader, I took my life in my own hands before the unfortunate incident and caught a ride with Mr. Jones and a certain Mr. Blacksock Buttercup as they went on a "boulder" run. The following is a rough account of the ride.

2:53 a.m.
On a Chilly Saturday Night.
After a night of hanging out at a local club and getting shitty and sloshed, the inevitable 2 a.m. close down rolled around. The harsh fluorescents flickered to life and chased the deliberate darkness to the far corners of the club. Scattering like so many cockroaches exposed to a late night kitchen light, the drunken denizens quickly drained what was left of their weak rum and Cokes, their warm bottles of Budweisers, and their nearly empty glasses of vodka tonics. Mr. Jones scouted out Blacksock macking on a plump chick in the last dark corner, pulled away from the girls greasy clutches and motioned me over.
Creackhead Jones
"Yaıll ready for a boulder run?" he asked with a wide grin.
"Damn, man," Blacksock said, "I was just gettinı ready to sweep up some scraps!"
"Fuck it, letıs go to the Lab," Jonesy said as he did an about face and headed for the back door.v "Come on, Slacks," Blacksock muttered, "Itıs time.... You sure you want to come?"
I shrugged my shoulders and said, "Sure."
Crackhead Jones
Minutes later, after a weaving walk back to Blacksocksı battered Prelude, we were on the road.
"All right!" Mr. Jones hollered. "Time to break the virgin in! Ha ha ha heee, haww!" he cackled. "OK, Slacks, one thing. These guys donıt like to see a white face in the car, so youıre gonna have to slide down in the back and just play it cool. No sudden movements or anything that would get you shot."
I nodded my agreement as we pulled into the parking lot of Miami Subs. I opened the door and stepped out of the front seat to switch places with Jonesy. He slapped me on the shoulder and said, "Letıs go."
A swift jaunt across the four lane blacktop of Western Avenue, a slippery slip behind Taco Bell and we were in Cracktown. A few homeys cruising on bikes could be seen through the orange glow of the streetlights and a couple strutting aimlessly around the corner apartments were also in view.
"Pull up here," Jones rasped to Blacksock.
"OK, OK."
I slid my 6ı3" frame sideways and lower in the tight backseat and tried not to look nervous.
Mr. Jones cranked the window down and yelled a clarion call: "Hooty, Hoo! Hooty, Hoo!" Three dudes quickly strolled up to the vehicle.
"Whatchoo want, whatchoo got," they said.
"Gimme a 20 rock, man. Donıt fuck me, cımon, lemme see what you got for 20. Donıt fuck me," Jones negotiated.
A quick glance at the goods and a few palms slapped and the deal was done. Blacksock gave the Honda some gas and away we went.
Mr. Jones told Blacksock to turn the overhead light on and checked out the merchandise. "A little light," Jones explained, "but they look like quality boulders. You gotta watch Œem, though, sometimes theyıll put fucking soap chips or Alka Seltzer pieces in there and fuck you over. Itıs happened to many times to count. But these babies look nice. A little light, but all right."
We made it back to the homestead and after an aluminum can was ferreted out of the recycling bin and a cigarette was smoked for the ashes, a instant, homemade crack pipe was ready for boulders. The can was dented in the middle and a few small holes were poked in the top, plus a carb was reamed in the side. The ashes covered the holes to keep the cocaine from falling into the can and a lighter touched the sparkling white rocks....