Meeting Heroin Mike

So I was standing at the bus stop the other day…

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You would think with that first line and the title you would know where this story is going, but I bet you’d be wrong.

I was waiting for the bus home, my headphones in–DMX: X Gon’ Give It To Yah playing–day dreaming about the Tex-Mex potatoes I was going to make when I got home, when I noticed a figure approach my left peripheral vision. I didn’t immediately look at the person but I could tell he or she was facing my direction, and even gesturing within my vicinity every so often.

I couldn’t help but look up, and standing there (talking away to me) was a scraggly, bigger man with a long mousy light-red, not quite blonde, beard.

I debated for a minute whether or not to take my headphones out.
Needless to say I took my headphones out, and the man continued right on with his story like I’d heard what he had said this whole time.

This is what I listened into the middle of:

“then the second guy was actually this guy down over here,” he gestured to a rough looking man a few feet to my right. “Right?”

“Mhm. Yep, yep,” replied the rough looking man.

“Because I was supposed to buy 3 falafels for 3 different people today,” the man in front of me continued. “Before your bus comes I want to tell you that God came to me in a prophecy and told me I would meet my third wife, and that she would be 6’9 with red eyebrows (I have red eyebrows) and a purple scarf (I was wearing a purple scarf at this moment.)”

Suddenly the man decides to stoop down and pick up a cigarette butt and a dime, palming the dime and putting the cigarette butt into his pocket.

“Before your bus comes I just want to say, I was told to buy 3 falafels today for 3 people, that’s why I’m asking before your bus comes if you have $2-$3.65.”

I didn’t have any change, so I replied: “No I’m sorry, I don’t have any change.”

“Oh that’s ok mam, don’t you worry. You know how I know that it’s ok? Because you said sorry, and because you said sorry I know it’s ok to give you this.” He opened his palm to reveal the dime. “I’m going to put this right here,” and as swiftly as a badger he reached out toward me and dropped the dime into the folds of my scarf.

“Oh!” I exclaimed.

“Before your bus comes I want to tell you not to take that dime out of there until you’re on the bus, because that dime holds 10 billion lives… I got that name a years ago, you know? Heroin Mike, that’s what they call me!” he laughed heartily and loudly, and yeah randomly changed the subject. “They called me that because I used to do a lot of heroin, that’s ok though. That’s what happens, right? So Jesus told me that his wife was my mother, but also my sister. That one day the woman that I have a son with will also be my sister, and my mother. And do you know who that woman is? [some woman in WWE with the first name Vanessa? I tried googling it, I came back with nothing]”

“Yeah Jesus, my father, came to me in my WWE game and told me I would marry Vanessa. Isn’t that something?”

I was still trying to process everything I had just been told. “Ye-es?”

“You,” Heroin Mike pointed at the rough looking man to my right, who now looked more nervous than ever. “You got a lighter?”

“Yea,” the rough looking man replied.

“Follow me.” And they walked away together, into an alleyway.

I stared at the falling snow for a few seconds, trying to figure out what had just happened. I then looked at the other people at the bus stop.

“Hm… I don’t know what to do with all of that information,” I finally said. One tiny old woman chuckled.

And then the bus arrived…


I’m 100% serious about this story.
If I was going to lie about something I would lie about something better, you can’t make this ish up.

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