I'm getting a morning coffee at this place up the street in Hollywood. As I'm waking up & checking my phone, this attractive blonde in a vintage Army shirt compliments my boots.
We begin chatting. I notice her Australian accent. She's been in L.A. for 3 years. She seems intelligent, nice, well put together and knows how to use a curling iron.
We chat for another half hour or so and I stand, she says "Let me give you my number". I agree & tell her I'll call her later on.
We decide to meet for dinner that night. I order a glass of wine & she orders nothing & tells me she's newly sober.
Me: Ah. I see. What was your substance of choice?
Whether someone was a junkie, a drunk or a coke head, if you're listening, it will tell you a lot about their personality type.
Rachel: Everything
That's no help, I thought.
Rachel: Listen. Scott. I've done some things I'm not proud of.
Me: Well, so have I. Who hasn't?
Rachel: No. I mean, REALLY not proud of.
Me: What's the worst thing you've ever done to another human being?
Rachel: I was getting high with this young girl & she O.D'd. And while I felt bad about putting her out in the alley & not calling 911, for whatever the reason, I felt much worse that her parents probably think she died alone, shooting heroin in an alley in Hollywood.
Me: I like to think that I'm generally speaking, without judgement, but... I'm going to go.
Rachel: K.
