Dollar Stories: A Skeev OD’d.

My hubz brings home Dollar Stories.

He works at a national chain of dollar stores, in a rough neighborhood. Every single day is an adventure.

I had to start writing them down because no one will believe me when I tell them the shit he goes through managing a cheap-ass shop in the ghetto.

Dollar Stories are the unbelievable dollar store tales, as reported by my hubz.

Dollar Stories #1:

A guy overdosed in the parking lot.

No, for realz. That seriously happened.

My hubz was at the register ringing up customers when someone in line shouted,

“Oh, my god! Someone is getting CPR!”

Everyone rushed to look out the store windows, and sure enough – this skeevy dude was passed out on the ground with another guy hovering over him, a Good Samaritan struggling to get the victim to breathe. A woman stood nearby, watching.

My hubz shouted for his manager to call 911, and then continued dealing with the customers, since it appeared the guy on the ground was in good hands.

The woman hanging about turned out to be the druggy’s girlfriend. The couple was recognized as two regular thieves of the dollar stores who always came in acting all cracked out while trying to return batteries they stole from various alternate locations.

Skeevs to the end, the patient’s hypodermic needle was tossed away so as to hide the evidence of his drug use. It was found weeks later after the snows melted.

And the Good Samaritan?

Walked away once paramedics arrived. He came back to finish his shopping later that afternoon. My hubz recognized him, but the guy didn’t want any credit for saving someone’s life. Fair enough. I don’t know how proud I would be to have given breath to a piece of shit, either.

My hubz came home quite understandably disturbed over this occurrence. Not sure if he was more put off by blatant disregard for one’s own life via reckless drug use; by blatant disregard for others in venturing out into public and putting them at risk; or by the fact that a heroic effort was wasted on such a shitty character.

This happened several weeks ago, and we’re still talking about it.

So there’s that.

Here’s an interesting aside to this personal story – one which may impact YOU or someone you love.

Or, you know, someone you hate. Whatever.

Due to overabundance of low-priced heroin, some first responders are now required to carry the overdose antidote Narcan to battle OD.

I’m not sure of all the science involved, because I’m not a medical professional, but basically the drug reverses overdose effects when someone is in respiratory distress – not without some serious side effects like seizures, vomiting, etc.

But feeling like shit definitely beats feeling, you know, DEAD.

Not everyone is on board.

Some states, like Maine, are opposed to making Narcan more common.

Because, their argument goes, it will lend a false sense of security to drug abusers and encourage them to keep being all over-dose-ish.

Kind of like how seat belts encourage my reckless driving, or condoms encourage lots of wild sex. I also hate the knowledge that I can go get surgery to remove my fat because it encourages all sorts of overeating and laziness.

Pretty much everything, EVER, that saves my life, particularly from my own questionable choices, should be eradicated, because making questionable choices means I am a shitty human being who deserves to die.

Except.

Doesn’t that kind of go AGAINST the Christian principle of second chances, forgiveness, and God’s grace?

Doesn’t that essentially remove my chance at redemption?

Doesn’t this, in effect, make null and void the tale of the Prodigal Son?

Here’s the thing:

God’s love is NOT solely reserved for those who only make good choices. Which, you know, by the way, that person doesn’t exist because none of you is Jesus.

God’s love, according to Christian doctrine, indicates that God’s love is solely reserved for ALL people… and that those who enjoy it most are those who come to repent.

Um, you can’t repent if you haven’t fucked up in the first place!

Christianity isn’t about never fucking up.

It’s supposed to be about acknowledging that we ARE fuck-ups, we WILL commit fuck-ups, and we REGRET our fuck-ups.

Blah.

Sorry to go all philosophical and religious on your ass, but the whole argument AGAINST saving people’s lives is based in Right-Wing, Conservative, dogmatic bullshit. For an agency that talks about being interested in saving people’s souls, these a-holes are sure callous with human lives.

We have a druggy cousin.

Oh, wait – she actually isn’t a druggy anymore. Thanks to intervention, not only has she kicked her habit to the curb, but now she is a substance abuse counselor. She, too, was on heroin, and committed several shit-tastic crimes like stealing and armed robbery and making her mama cry. She represented the worst case scenario – and NOW she represents the best possible outcome.

We are all grateful she was granted the opportunity to make a better choice.

Multiple opportunities, actually.

Because let’s not kid ourselves:

Drug addicts have to hit bottom more than once before they decide to climb back up.

*Pulp Fiction – shot in the heart*

Back to that skeevy gentleman who OD’d.

He is a known thief.

He is probably an asshole.

He is probably a worthless waste of oxygen.

But if you let him die, you are taking away his right to be a fuck-up.

Worse, you are deciding for him that he is never going to change.

And I’d just like to ask this:

Who the fuck are YOU?

Unless you’re perfect, your opinion on this topic had best be on the side of saving the skeev.

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