One Man's journey through the nightlife of NYC- A memoir of Drugs, Clubs, Death and Rebirth. A true cautionary tale.
July 06, 2010
May 11, 2010
Are you fucking kidding me?!?!!!
APRIL 16, 2008
Are you fucking kidding me?!?!!!
3 Days after Morrow was released from Riker's Island Prison on bail, He was arrested again. Morrow was trying to make the last big score now he was in Jail for the long haul. My best friend was in Prison! This was for real. I tried to continue on my daily activities but a sense of dread surrounded me. I could feel that all the years of partying was about to envelop us all, It was time to pay the Devil his price. A day after Morrow's second arrest, I get a message to call "Naomi " my friend Sheryl's cousin.( Sheryl is my ex-roommate, surrogate mother and good friend) Naomi told me to get to the hospital " Sheryl had a stroke !" "A stroke? She's to young for a stroke, Could it be her escalating cocaine use? She was dating a part-time dealer and it was always at her disposal." Once again Marie picked me up in her car and now instead of driving to Riker's as we had done the day before, We were driving to the hospital to see our other friend Sheryl. Morrow and Sheryl were also once roommates, it seemed as if a virus was taking out each and every member of the circle or a better term would be cypher.
Sheryl was awake when we arrived at the hospital but she was not the same, Her entire right side was paralyzed and something had snapped in her mind. She was mean spirited and had none of the charm or sweetness that she was known for. Her gorgeous face was completely paralyzed on her right side and she could not control her drool. It was very painful to see this Strong, fierce woman lose control over her body. Her inner strength was still apparent, with fierce determination she swore to lick this and recover. A week later Sheryl slipped into a coma, she never recovered and passed away a the end of the month. Her death is to painful for me to reflect on at this point and also Sheryl deserves her own chapter so I will end her story for now.
So I thought "Morrow is in Prison for the foreseeable future, Sheryl is dead, The closet 2 members of my inner circle, my self made family, I had spent every day of the last 10 years with one of them, I have to keep it together. " I had always been good at keeping my emotions in check, I envisioned myself as a survivor, unstoppable. I rarely cried as a matter of fact, I refused to cry. I did break down at Cheryl's bedside, but I pulled it together, I knew if I completely let go I would stay down.
But life has a way of breaking you down. My Mother called a day after Sheryl's funeral "Kim passed away this morning", No! no more! not my cousin and childhood best friend! God wouldn't do this to me right now, I',m not strong enough. Kim had been fighting Lupus since were teenagers but she always made it through, This time her body had enough and gave away. I immediately thought of my little sister Shaun who also suffered many years with Lupus, I called her and we talked about our cousin Kim, Shaun said that she knew she would be okay because God had told her she would be fine. Shaun had become very religious in the past couple of years, especially when the disease become more intolerable. Shaun was once a proud lesbian but she now equated her disease with not living in God's light, She now had renounced her lesbian ways as the devil's work and the lupus as her punishment. A week after I spoke with Shaun her heart stopped and she passed away.
In over a month I lost four people, Three had passed on suddenly with no warning and one was in Prison, I was holding on by my fingernails. I went home to my family, I had to be strong for them, so I was. I mediated family battles, cooked dinner and tried to be there for my Step-mom. She was devastated and she still has not recovered. I returned to New York, put on my mask and pretended I was fine. But the in truth I was headed for a nervous breakdown, My drug use escalated. Whenever I wasn't at work I was high I was no longer buying 20's but 8 Balls of Coke. Anytime I started to think I got high. The most surprising part was that no one noticed I was a completely functioning addict. I could hold it together for work, run home and get high. . I sat in my apartment for 2 years getting high. I no longer returned phone calls and never saw my friends. Life continued on as more friends disappeared Felecia and Sean married and moved to Baltimore, Geoff and Rockie moved to Atlanta, Chris to LA, Starr and Spencer had a baby and moved to Texas, British became addicted to Heroin and disappeared, Margo, Jazz, Vivica, Judy, Damien, Marie #2, all the others gone.. The Party was over, I had given up any hope of acting, I didn't want to go out, I was done at 33, I had seen and done way too much. I became a recluse in my apt, getting high and waiting on my turn to die. I laughed, joked, but was dead inside, I couldn't wait to get home and get high.
Are you fucking kidding me?!?!!!
3 Days after Morrow was released from Riker's Island Prison on bail, He was arrested again. Morrow was trying to make the last big score now he was in Jail for the long haul. My best friend was in Prison! This was for real. I tried to continue on my daily activities but a sense of dread surrounded me. I could feel that all the years of partying was about to envelop us all, It was time to pay the Devil his price. A day after Morrow's second arrest, I get a message to call "Naomi " my friend Sheryl's cousin.( Sheryl is my ex-roommate, surrogate mother and good friend) Naomi told me to get to the hospital " Sheryl had a stroke !" "A stroke? She's to young for a stroke, Could it be her escalating cocaine use? She was dating a part-time dealer and it was always at her disposal." Once again Marie picked me up in her car and now instead of driving to Riker's as we had done the day before, We were driving to the hospital to see our other friend Sheryl. Morrow and Sheryl were also once roommates, it seemed as if a virus was taking out each and every member of the circle or a better term would be cypher.
Sheryl was awake when we arrived at the hospital but she was not the same, Her entire right side was paralyzed and something had snapped in her mind. She was mean spirited and had none of the charm or sweetness that she was known for. Her gorgeous face was completely paralyzed on her right side and she could not control her drool. It was very painful to see this Strong, fierce woman lose control over her body. Her inner strength was still apparent, with fierce determination she swore to lick this and recover. A week later Sheryl slipped into a coma, she never recovered and passed away a the end of the month. Her death is to painful for me to reflect on at this point and also Sheryl deserves her own chapter so I will end her story for now.
So I thought "Morrow is in Prison for the foreseeable future, Sheryl is dead, The closet 2 members of my inner circle, my self made family, I had spent every day of the last 10 years with one of them, I have to keep it together. " I had always been good at keeping my emotions in check, I envisioned myself as a survivor, unstoppable. I rarely cried as a matter of fact, I refused to cry. I did break down at Cheryl's bedside, but I pulled it together, I knew if I completely let go I would stay down.
But life has a way of breaking you down. My Mother called a day after Sheryl's funeral "Kim passed away this morning", No! no more! not my cousin and childhood best friend! God wouldn't do this to me right now, I',m not strong enough. Kim had been fighting Lupus since were teenagers but she always made it through, This time her body had enough and gave away. I immediately thought of my little sister Shaun who also suffered many years with Lupus, I called her and we talked about our cousin Kim, Shaun said that she knew she would be okay because God had told her she would be fine. Shaun had become very religious in the past couple of years, especially when the disease become more intolerable. Shaun was once a proud lesbian but she now equated her disease with not living in God's light, She now had renounced her lesbian ways as the devil's work and the lupus as her punishment. A week after I spoke with Shaun her heart stopped and she passed away.
In over a month I lost four people, Three had passed on suddenly with no warning and one was in Prison, I was holding on by my fingernails. I went home to my family, I had to be strong for them, so I was. I mediated family battles, cooked dinner and tried to be there for my Step-mom. She was devastated and she still has not recovered. I returned to New York, put on my mask and pretended I was fine. But the in truth I was headed for a nervous breakdown, My drug use escalated. Whenever I wasn't at work I was high I was no longer buying 20's but 8 Balls of Coke. Anytime I started to think I got high. The most surprising part was that no one noticed I was a completely functioning addict. I could hold it together for work, run home and get high. . I sat in my apartment for 2 years getting high. I no longer returned phone calls and never saw my friends. Life continued on as more friends disappeared Felecia and Sean married and moved to Baltimore, Geoff and Rockie moved to Atlanta, Chris to LA, Starr and Spencer had a baby and moved to Texas, British became addicted to Heroin and disappeared, Margo, Jazz, Vivica, Judy, Damien, Marie #2, all the others gone.. The Party was over, I had given up any hope of acting, I didn't want to go out, I was done at 33, I had seen and done way too much. I became a recluse in my apt, getting high and waiting on my turn to die. I laughed, joked, but was dead inside, I couldn't wait to get home and get high.
The 1st Day of the last days
APRIL 16, 2008
The 1st Day of the last days
Month-hazy, can't remember, Year-Late 2005
Monday- The day started like any other, I was out in the streets clubbing way too late, In the bed by six and up at eight. I started my usual routine, stumble into the kitchen to put on my cup of coffee, wash my face, look in the mirror and promise myself and God that today I will make a change. On automatic pilot I got dressed. As I walk out the door I take one last look at myself in the mirror with disgust and proclaim my mantra "Well, this is the best I can do today".
Work is the same as usual, I struggle through and I'm back home around 9:00 pm. I have a urgent message from Marie "Call me Morrow's been arrested" What! I frantically call her back, "What happened" I say, although I know full well that Morrow's short lived career as a Drug King of Chelsea had caught up to him. I've known Morrow and Marie since college. We were best friends. We were kids brimming with talent and ambition, Could it be that was 12 years ago when we met? So much has hap pend since we all moved to the Big City, The kids we were had gone and our lives had changed so much. Talented was not an adequate description of Morrow and Marie. They were and still are supremely gifted. Marie was born with the face of a goddess. Liquid green eyes, light Carmel skin, and a think mane of golden brown hair. A carbon copy of a young Vanessa Williams. Although Marie was a bigger girl she carried herself like she was as thin as our favorite supermodels. Marie was also born with a voice that was beyond belief. She entered OCU on a full scholarship with living expenses. (Unheard of at a school that boasted future, Tony Award winners, Miss America's, and Grammy recipients.) Although it was clear at the time Marie could care less about singing. She rarely did a show, and seemed unsure of her talent. She spent most of her time at college with our other friend also named Marie, they called themselves the "ladies of leisure" I was enthralled with them.
Marie #2 was the exact opposite of Marie #1. Long Blond hair, blue eyes and breasts that would make Dolly Parton hang her head in shame. Marie #2 had recently lost 80 pounds and was enjoying her new body. A born actress she was the lead in every play. Part Bette Midler, Bette Davis, and Marilyn Monroe all rolled up into one very fabulous girl. Marie "2 was my first friend at college through her I met Marie #1. Soon we were inseparable and along with Morrow we became family. Marie #2 moved to New York first, I originally lived with her in New York and our friendship was never the same, but that's another story.
Morrow was Tall and Handsome, Full mane of thick Black Hair with Sea Blue green eyes (A male Snow White) and oh yes, full of himself. Morrow had come from a privileged background, extremely wealthy parents, and a voice that seemed to come directly from God. Morrow was talented and he knew it. I was immediately impressed with his confidence upon our first meeting. I was looking for new recruits for my frat KA, Of course we had a list of potential pledges and Morrow was at the top of the list because of his looks and wealth. "Hi I'm Michael from Kappa Alpha Order, May I help you move into your dorm room and show you around campus? Morrow turned on his heel glared at me and spat ''Look honey, I know what you are up to but I'm Gay! Still want to invite me into your fraternity!" I was speechless, "Didn't think so" he sputtered, Then he got closer and looked me in the eyes and said "And so are you!' I was dumbfounded. Who did he think he was "No I'm not! I just want to welcome you to OCU and I'm here to help you move in" How could I not? I didn't want it to look like I was walking away because he was gay although I wanted to move on to the next victim for the Brotherhood. As it turned out I had just met my best friend and a "real brother" for life even if I didn't know it.
Morrow and I lost touch after college, I moved to New York and unbeknownst to me so had Morrow. My first year in New York I was eating at the Fashion Cafe with my "SuperModel" friend Renee. "Oh my stars and Garters Michael Berry", I look up and see Morrow's Cheshire grin and open arms. We hug and catch up, Some friendships are just meant to be. We proceeded to hang out every day, drinking and soaking in the city. One time I remember smoking weed with Morrow, We ordered Pizza, While we were waiting for the Pizza we went downstairs to the Chinese restaurant ate Steamed Dumplings, Egg Rolls, and Spareribs, then it was back up to the apartment to finish off the pizza. "What do you want to do tonight" I asked , "Let's go to the Tunnel and crash Brandy's CD release party "Sure I said, We were full of confidence. Now of course we could'nt just waltz into a private CD release party of a platinum selling artist, Or could we? We did! We waltzed right up to the Velvet Ropes and used our boss Tracy Jordan's name and were in. (Tracy used to be a VP at MTV, she created "Yo MTV Raps") We were so high we forgot why we were there! When we saw the buffet! Shrimp Cocktail, Sushi, Caviar, mushrooms, every kind of food you could imagine. Remember we had the munchies. Then we saw it "Open Bar!, We got so plastered that we found rolling chairs and rolled them up and down the banquet table eating and drinking everything in sight. We must have looked a mess but we laughed, ate and drank our asses off. This was before our cocaine use and later Morrow's Crystal Meth addiction. This was when drugs were fun. Little did we know it was the beginning of the end.
The 1st Day of the last days
Month-hazy, can't remember, Year-Late 2005
Monday- The day started like any other, I was out in the streets clubbing way too late, In the bed by six and up at eight. I started my usual routine, stumble into the kitchen to put on my cup of coffee, wash my face, look in the mirror and promise myself and God that today I will make a change. On automatic pilot I got dressed. As I walk out the door I take one last look at myself in the mirror with disgust and proclaim my mantra "Well, this is the best I can do today".
Work is the same as usual, I struggle through and I'm back home around 9:00 pm. I have a urgent message from Marie "Call me Morrow's been arrested" What! I frantically call her back, "What happened" I say, although I know full well that Morrow's short lived career as a Drug King of Chelsea had caught up to him. I've known Morrow and Marie since college. We were best friends. We were kids brimming with talent and ambition, Could it be that was 12 years ago when we met? So much has hap pend since we all moved to the Big City, The kids we were had gone and our lives had changed so much. Talented was not an adequate description of Morrow and Marie. They were and still are supremely gifted. Marie was born with the face of a goddess. Liquid green eyes, light Carmel skin, and a think mane of golden brown hair. A carbon copy of a young Vanessa Williams. Although Marie was a bigger girl she carried herself like she was as thin as our favorite supermodels. Marie was also born with a voice that was beyond belief. She entered OCU on a full scholarship with living expenses. (Unheard of at a school that boasted future, Tony Award winners, Miss America's, and Grammy recipients.) Although it was clear at the time Marie could care less about singing. She rarely did a show, and seemed unsure of her talent. She spent most of her time at college with our other friend also named Marie, they called themselves the "ladies of leisure" I was enthralled with them.
Marie #2 was the exact opposite of Marie #1. Long Blond hair, blue eyes and breasts that would make Dolly Parton hang her head in shame. Marie #2 had recently lost 80 pounds and was enjoying her new body. A born actress she was the lead in every play. Part Bette Midler, Bette Davis, and Marilyn Monroe all rolled up into one very fabulous girl. Marie "2 was my first friend at college through her I met Marie #1. Soon we were inseparable and along with Morrow we became family. Marie #2 moved to New York first, I originally lived with her in New York and our friendship was never the same, but that's another story.
Morrow was Tall and Handsome, Full mane of thick Black Hair with Sea Blue green eyes (A male Snow White) and oh yes, full of himself. Morrow had come from a privileged background, extremely wealthy parents, and a voice that seemed to come directly from God. Morrow was talented and he knew it. I was immediately impressed with his confidence upon our first meeting. I was looking for new recruits for my frat KA, Of course we had a list of potential pledges and Morrow was at the top of the list because of his looks and wealth. "Hi I'm Michael from Kappa Alpha Order, May I help you move into your dorm room and show you around campus? Morrow turned on his heel glared at me and spat ''Look honey, I know what you are up to but I'm Gay! Still want to invite me into your fraternity!" I was speechless, "Didn't think so" he sputtered, Then he got closer and looked me in the eyes and said "And so are you!' I was dumbfounded. Who did he think he was "No I'm not! I just want to welcome you to OCU and I'm here to help you move in" How could I not? I didn't want it to look like I was walking away because he was gay although I wanted to move on to the next victim for the Brotherhood. As it turned out I had just met my best friend and a "real brother" for life even if I didn't know it.
Morrow and I lost touch after college, I moved to New York and unbeknownst to me so had Morrow. My first year in New York I was eating at the Fashion Cafe with my "SuperModel" friend Renee. "Oh my stars and Garters Michael Berry", I look up and see Morrow's Cheshire grin and open arms. We hug and catch up, Some friendships are just meant to be. We proceeded to hang out every day, drinking and soaking in the city. One time I remember smoking weed with Morrow, We ordered Pizza, While we were waiting for the Pizza we went downstairs to the Chinese restaurant ate Steamed Dumplings, Egg Rolls, and Spareribs, then it was back up to the apartment to finish off the pizza. "What do you want to do tonight" I asked , "Let's go to the Tunnel and crash Brandy's CD release party "Sure I said, We were full of confidence. Now of course we could'nt just waltz into a private CD release party of a platinum selling artist, Or could we? We did! We waltzed right up to the Velvet Ropes and used our boss Tracy Jordan's name and were in. (Tracy used to be a VP at MTV, she created "Yo MTV Raps") We were so high we forgot why we were there! When we saw the buffet! Shrimp Cocktail, Sushi, Caviar, mushrooms, every kind of food you could imagine. Remember we had the munchies. Then we saw it "Open Bar!, We got so plastered that we found rolling chairs and rolled them up and down the banquet table eating and drinking everything in sight. We must have looked a mess but we laughed, ate and drank our asses off. This was before our cocaine use and later Morrow's Crystal Meth addiction. This was when drugs were fun. Little did we know it was the beginning of the end.
Am I Fabulous or Deluded? Is there a difference. What I thought? (How Fabulous am I?) Reality (How deluded am I?)
APRIL 16, 2008
Am I Fabulous or Deluded? Is there a difference.
What I thought? (How Fabulous am I?) Reality (How deluded am I?)
I thought I was fabulous, It was the summer of 1996 I had been in New York for over a year. I was living in a studio/loft apartment in Manhattan on 25th street, I was making $200 to $350 dollars a day, Believe it or not the The Theme Restaurant life was the shit between 1995-1999. Besides my job Motown Cafe, there was Fashion Cafe, Hard Rock Cafe, Jekyll and Hyde, Mars 2112, Harley Davidson Cafe, Slaughter House, Planet Hollywood, and ESPN Zone. We all thought because we worked for and waited on Stars that we were an extension of them.
We spent our days getting waxed, plucked, Hair styled, shopping, lunching and brunching. We used have what my friend Damien called "Bump" shopping. This is where you shop in a store, do a "bump" of cocaine, Shop, bump, have a cocktail, do a bump, shop, bump, bump bump. Now you need a vivid description of Damien to understand him, I will do my best.
Damien was about 5'4 , eyebrows plucked to perfection. Jet Black hair, full and voluminous. The true definition of "Fierce Queen". Although Damien was of Mexican hertiage, he claimed to be Puerto Rican. He was small and slightly built but Damien carried so much strength in his words and appearance that people usually bowed to his whims and let him dictate their every move. I'm sad to say I was also a follower of the church of Damien. Unlike my dear friend Juan, Damien really did know all the right people in all the right places. He always knew the hottest night at the hottest club, We never paid, always had drugs and drink tickets. During the time I became friends with Damien he convinced me that Juan was just a Big dumb lunk and slowly I distanced myself from Juan and became ensconced among Damien's friends Judy, Vicica, Alexa, Freeman, Tracy, Wanettea, Jazz, British, Geoffrey, Cindy, Diamond, Brian, Marcus, Cindy, Chris, and lots of day players . This was a fun , sassy, gorgeous and fabulous group and I wanted in badly. Juan was not happy to be in a big group Juan never had fun in large circles. He always felt that he didn't fit in, In spite of his looks and what I found charming ways. Others thought he was simple and dumb, which he was not! Juan couldn't fit in because he didn't care who Linda Evangelista was? Or it wasn't major news that Naomi Campbell fell off the catwalk. These were major moments in the life of the Fashionista group. Juan was too sensitive to survive in this camp, and slowly as I became more fabulous and flaky, Juan simply walked away from our friendship, I became someone who he didn't want to be around. I was so oblivious at the time that it was years before I even noticed he was gone. This is not something I am proud of but it is fact and the one the thing you cannot change is the truth, no matter how repulsive. My schedule was full trying to keep up with my new friends and believe me our schedule was busy. Damien usually had all the groups activities planned
Here is the "Damien weekly list" Monday night- "Sugar Babies" Eclectic party at Irving Plaza, Dancing, drinking, Ecstasy pills. Tuesday- Luxia Bar - Cocktails, Friends, and cocaine. Wednesday- Eyebrows plucked, lunch, cocaine, go to work, After work we had drinks and cocaine at Revloution bar in Times Square. Thursday- The Sound factory Bar- Cocktails, Dancing, and of course cocaine. Friday - We traveled out to the boroughs of Queens to Krash Nightclub in Astoria.(See Sound Factory Bar for the goings on) Saturdays was of course the "Tunnel" - drinking, dancing, cocaine, Ecstasy, Special K, This was the night where you did 2 or more designer drugs and finished the night at 3:00 in the afternoon. Now by this time you had long left The Tunnel and spent most of Sunday morning at a shady and seedy after hours called Sizzle. Now Sizzle after hours was something to behold. They opened at 6:00 in the morning, it had a moving secret location. The cops would bust them and they would find a new space by the next week. Sizzle had Iron Doors would slot holes, the Doorman would peep out the hole and if you were a part of the scene he knew it and let you in , otherwise sorry "Private Party".
Inside the dark and seedy place, there was gambling and blackjack tables, (High rollers only), dancing and drinks. The crowd was a mix of club kids, mafia men, strippers, go-go- boys, drag queens, trainnies, jersey boys, rich kids, and somehow me. Sundays was usually either rest and recuperate or head out to "Cafe Con Leche" party on 43rd street. I get tired just remembering the days of yore. Now although I regret some of the habits I developed by hanging out with Damien, There was a reason I met him, through Damien I met his best friend and room mate Freeman. We did not hit it off right away in fact he hated me on sight. Damien and I had just started hanging out and we were set to go to the club when Damien decided I was not dressed good enough. We took a cab to his cute little Railroad apt he shared with Freeman in Times Square. He quickly introduced me to Freeman as his sad little southern girlfriend who needed a makeover. "Look at his eyebrows" he squealed to Freeman, "Honey you are a mess"" Give him something to wear and I'm getting my tweezers girl!" Instead he went and made us cocktails, and rolled a blount. Needless to say Freeman was not amused bby the sad little country queen that stood in his apt asking to borrow clothes. NO! he said flatly and continued to flick the remote back and forth between MTV and BET. For the next 2 hours we watched videos, smoked weed and snorted ccocaine. All the while Freeman did not acknowledge, or even look at me. I thought he really hates me, he can see that I'm in the wrong crowd and I don't belong in their inner sanctum. We went to Sound Factory and Free continued to avoid me only stopping to speak to me if I had the package of Coke and I had to pass it to him. Back in those days we shared packages, intsead of having our own.
At the end of the night as I saying goodbye Free gave me a half ass hug. Then he looked me squarely in the eyes and said to me "Don't listen to her you look fine" Be yourself." Although I didn't know it at the time, Here was a person that was saying something I should listen to out of kindness, and here also was once of the sweetest and kindest people I would ever met. As Damien's face melted away and his demons showed, Freeman's emerged as my true friend and one who I will always cherish and love as family. Underneath the tough shell was a beautiful, sesitive and kind soul. Through the years Free has given me many words of hope and wisdom, We both walked through the hell of nightlife New York and survived. Many of our friends are in jail, rehab or should be in rehab, or have gone back to our heavenly father; We both made it through, yeah we got a little burnt, a lot worn but we are still here. By the grace of God we are still here.
Posted
Am I Fabulous or Deluded? Is there a difference.
What I thought? (How Fabulous am I?) Reality (How deluded am I?)
I thought I was fabulous, It was the summer of 1996 I had been in New York for over a year. I was living in a studio/loft apartment in Manhattan on 25th street, I was making $200 to $350 dollars a day, Believe it or not the The Theme Restaurant life was the shit between 1995-1999. Besides my job Motown Cafe, there was Fashion Cafe, Hard Rock Cafe, Jekyll and Hyde, Mars 2112, Harley Davidson Cafe, Slaughter House, Planet Hollywood, and ESPN Zone. We all thought because we worked for and waited on Stars that we were an extension of them.
We spent our days getting waxed, plucked, Hair styled, shopping, lunching and brunching. We used have what my friend Damien called "Bump" shopping. This is where you shop in a store, do a "bump" of cocaine, Shop, bump, have a cocktail, do a bump, shop, bump, bump bump. Now you need a vivid description of Damien to understand him, I will do my best.
Damien was about 5'4 , eyebrows plucked to perfection. Jet Black hair, full and voluminous. The true definition of "Fierce Queen". Although Damien was of Mexican hertiage, he claimed to be Puerto Rican. He was small and slightly built but Damien carried so much strength in his words and appearance that people usually bowed to his whims and let him dictate their every move. I'm sad to say I was also a follower of the church of Damien. Unlike my dear friend Juan, Damien really did know all the right people in all the right places. He always knew the hottest night at the hottest club, We never paid, always had drugs and drink tickets. During the time I became friends with Damien he convinced me that Juan was just a Big dumb lunk and slowly I distanced myself from Juan and became ensconced among Damien's friends Judy, Vicica, Alexa, Freeman, Tracy, Wanettea, Jazz, British, Geoffrey, Cindy, Diamond, Brian, Marcus, Cindy, Chris, and lots of day players . This was a fun , sassy, gorgeous and fabulous group and I wanted in badly. Juan was not happy to be in a big group Juan never had fun in large circles. He always felt that he didn't fit in, In spite of his looks and what I found charming ways. Others thought he was simple and dumb, which he was not! Juan couldn't fit in because he didn't care who Linda Evangelista was? Or it wasn't major news that Naomi Campbell fell off the catwalk. These were major moments in the life of the Fashionista group. Juan was too sensitive to survive in this camp, and slowly as I became more fabulous and flaky, Juan simply walked away from our friendship, I became someone who he didn't want to be around. I was so oblivious at the time that it was years before I even noticed he was gone. This is not something I am proud of but it is fact and the one the thing you cannot change is the truth, no matter how repulsive. My schedule was full trying to keep up with my new friends and believe me our schedule was busy. Damien usually had all the groups activities planned
Here is the "Damien weekly list" Monday night- "Sugar Babies" Eclectic party at Irving Plaza, Dancing, drinking, Ecstasy pills. Tuesday- Luxia Bar - Cocktails, Friends, and cocaine. Wednesday- Eyebrows plucked, lunch, cocaine, go to work, After work we had drinks and cocaine at Revloution bar in Times Square. Thursday- The Sound factory Bar- Cocktails, Dancing, and of course cocaine. Friday - We traveled out to the boroughs of Queens to Krash Nightclub in Astoria.(See Sound Factory Bar for the goings on) Saturdays was of course the "Tunnel" - drinking, dancing, cocaine, Ecstasy, Special K, This was the night where you did 2 or more designer drugs and finished the night at 3:00 in the afternoon. Now by this time you had long left The Tunnel and spent most of Sunday morning at a shady and seedy after hours called Sizzle. Now Sizzle after hours was something to behold. They opened at 6:00 in the morning, it had a moving secret location. The cops would bust them and they would find a new space by the next week. Sizzle had Iron Doors would slot holes, the Doorman would peep out the hole and if you were a part of the scene he knew it and let you in , otherwise sorry "Private Party".
Inside the dark and seedy place, there was gambling and blackjack tables, (High rollers only), dancing and drinks. The crowd was a mix of club kids, mafia men, strippers, go-go- boys, drag queens, trainnies, jersey boys, rich kids, and somehow me. Sundays was usually either rest and recuperate or head out to "Cafe Con Leche" party on 43rd street. I get tired just remembering the days of yore. Now although I regret some of the habits I developed by hanging out with Damien, There was a reason I met him, through Damien I met his best friend and room mate Freeman. We did not hit it off right away in fact he hated me on sight. Damien and I had just started hanging out and we were set to go to the club when Damien decided I was not dressed good enough. We took a cab to his cute little Railroad apt he shared with Freeman in Times Square. He quickly introduced me to Freeman as his sad little southern girlfriend who needed a makeover. "Look at his eyebrows" he squealed to Freeman, "Honey you are a mess"" Give him something to wear and I'm getting my tweezers girl!" Instead he went and made us cocktails, and rolled a blount. Needless to say Freeman was not amused bby the sad little country queen that stood in his apt asking to borrow clothes. NO! he said flatly and continued to flick the remote back and forth between MTV and BET. For the next 2 hours we watched videos, smoked weed and snorted ccocaine. All the while Freeman did not acknowledge, or even look at me. I thought he really hates me, he can see that I'm in the wrong crowd and I don't belong in their inner sanctum. We went to Sound Factory and Free continued to avoid me only stopping to speak to me if I had the package of Coke and I had to pass it to him. Back in those days we shared packages, intsead of having our own.
At the end of the night as I saying goodbye Free gave me a half ass hug. Then he looked me squarely in the eyes and said to me "Don't listen to her you look fine" Be yourself." Although I didn't know it at the time, Here was a person that was saying something I should listen to out of kindness, and here also was once of the sweetest and kindest people I would ever met. As Damien's face melted away and his demons showed, Freeman's emerged as my true friend and one who I will always cherish and love as family. Underneath the tough shell was a beautiful, sesitive and kind soul. Through the years Free has given me many words of hope and wisdom, We both walked through the hell of nightlife New York and survived. Many of our friends are in jail, rehab or should be in rehab, or have gone back to our heavenly father; We both made it through, yeah we got a little burnt, a lot worn but we are still here. By the grace of God we are still here.
Posted
August 13, 2009
Let me introduce myself
Let me introduce myself
I'm a man that you've never seen
You might know me from somewhere else
As someone that I've never been
I gave everything to play the game
My soul fell apart at the seams
I fell down like a house of cards
When somebody pulled the King
Cause you could spend your life
Lookin' for your own reflection
Time could blur the lines
Between what's real
And what's projected
Had I known what I lost?
What I gained, what it'd cost
I'd still give what remains
To be myself again
You must believe me when I say
Don't live someone else's design
Turn it around like a photograph
The writings been there all the time
Now you can have all
These hopes and dreams
The ones I can't use anymore
I don't know what it is you lost
But I hope you got what you came for
Sometimes I want to leave right now
Sometimes I want to cry out loud
I want to let it all hang out
But I don't want to let you down
Sometimes I want to just lay here
Sometimes I want to disappear
I want to show you all my fear
But I don't want to let you down
Had I known what I lost?
What I gained, what it'd cost
I'd still give what remains
To be myself again
To be myself again
The Beginning- Doing Time on Maple Drive
1976
I Carefully packed my Super Friend’s coloring book, my yellow teddy bear, and my favorite Gladys Knight & the Pips” album. My three most precious items. As I closed the suitcase I thought, “ They don’t believe me but I’m leaving! I don’t know where I’m going but I belong here!” I marched down the sprawling driveway, past my Mother who had just returned from the market, barely giving her a glance as I continued my journey down Maple Drive (I really lived on a street called Maple Drive) I still remember Maple Drive, with its quaint perfect houses, where perfect upwardly mobile young black families co-existed peacefully alongside young Upwardly mobile White couples on a wisteria lane type block. Very rare in the south in 1976. Every family on Maple Drive had a Father, Mother, and Kids. All seemed Perfect.
I can still see my Mother waving to the neighbors across the street as she unloaded her groceries. The husband smiled and leered while his dutiful wife clenched her teeth, formed a smile and forced “a good afternoon Jerri, We see Michael’s running away again today!” My mother shook her head and thought “Not again, Why does this child need so much attention, His older brother Tony is never a problem “ the perfect masculine, rugged little boy, but I was different, odd. I would have random acts of Mass Destruction. My Aunt Mary nick named me “Tornado” because wherever I went looked like a tornado hit it after I left. I was also prone to scaring visitors by pretending to be dead or screaming at the top of my lungs until they went home. I also loved to antagonize my father George although I knew even then that I couldn’t win.
When she met my father she thought she had it made. Tall Handsome, and not exactly broke. My father’s occupation up until I was the age of 7 is unknown, in my family we never talk about the past or anything associated with the past even amongst each other, As a matter of fact we rarely discussed anything. If we were not fighting we were cordial, southern and polite. How/what people thought of them was more important to them than being happy. The only thing I remember is my father being in some sort of Secret Club with various shady characters that would phase in and out of our lives. It was normal for him to spend his days on his motorcycle cruising Memphis with various colorful personalities including Soul Singer Isaac Hayes. I saw him around a lot before my father’s accident but not once after. But the “accident “ comes later. Yep she thought she had grabbed the brass ring, She had no idea that the public gregarious George was very different from the monster that raged within him behind the closed doors.
As she watched Michael march down the street determined to get away from Maple Drive she wondered if he had somehow sensed her desire to escape. The irony was she wanted to scoop him up so they could both run away. But she couldn’t because my father would find us and bring us back, as he had before. . During the early 60’s when she was a young girl after her African American Mother died , her Caucasian Father thought it best if his children passed themselves as White so that they could enjoy a better life. It was a tumultuous time in the South. Its easy to judge now but the obstacles that a white father would have had to face with three black children would have been devaasting to say the least. When she meet my father in the early 70’s she had renounced her previous rejection of her mixed heritage and now embraced her blackness. It was the height of the Black Power movement and through this mutual interest she met my father. . My mother had the kind of beauty and senusality that makes grown men swoon in her presence, 6 Feet tall with Long Jet Black hair, skin as smooth as butter and of similar tone. Always impeccably dressed in the latest designs topped off with her signature blood red lipstick. She was used to being called beautiful and had used it to her advantage. Her Goal had been find a rich man like her father and continue life in the in the style to which she had become accustomed. My Mother learned very early on that a beautiful Girl could pretty much write her own ticket. Many Black men at that time were concerned about the skin color of a potential wife because they wanted light skinned babies. I had so many playmates called “Boo” For the very dark and “Redbone” for the very light I couldn’t tell day from night if you pardon the pun. These Men who were actually full of self-hatred wanted a Lena Horne or Lonette McKee type to marry. (A more modern reference Mariah Carey/Alicia Keys) and George Berry was no different. He romanced her with his charming con man ways at 16 by 18 she was married with a baby boy and another one on the way, Me. Now only in her early 20’s she was watching her little boy try to escape the prison she had created for them. Why had she been so desperate to escape the home of her father? At this moment she wished she could run back to her father and tell him that her was abusive mentally as well as physically. My grandfather would have grabbed his shotgun and shot my father square between the eyes, Or my father would have killed my Grandfather. Both options were out of the question, so she said nothing resigning herself to her fate. As the wind swept her hair about her face she looked every bit the “tragic mulatto”, it was role she played very well. As I think about it I was always drawn to those types in movies (The movie Sparkle, etc.) now I know why. One raised me.
George Berry had come from a tough childhood> My Grandfather George Berry Senior decided he no longer wanted a family so he simply as legend tells the story buried my grandmother alive (No Joke! No one will even tell me her name.), Berry Sir then drained his bank account and sold his kids to relatives and moved to Little Rock, TN and started a new life, not glancing back once until this day. My grandparents had 4 boys Willie, Napoleon, George and the baby Robert. The wealthy relatives bought Uncle Willie because as they valued his light-skin, green eyes and “Good Hair”, While My father and his brother Napoleon failed the "paper bag test" so at 7 & 8 years old they were sold to a distant Uncle and forced to work as labor on his farm. If they even asked about School they were beaten until they could barely breathe. My Uncle Robert because of his extremely dark skin, there were no offers to take him even though he was the baby. He was sent away to live with the poorest relatives in the slums of the Ghettos of Chicago. It ain't always a pretty story people but its the truth. The irony is that although he was raised in very a desperate environment and my Uncle Willie was raised with every amenity. Robert was the more blessed, he was loved and cherished therefore he prospered and became a well-adjusted productive adult. I know nothing about my father’s life from the farm days in Grand Junction TN until he showed up in Memphis. Now wealthy handsome, and charming somehow he convinced my mother into a marriage, 2 kids, and a picket fence. Or a picket cage as the case turned out to be. I had made it half way down the street when something told me to turn around and go home like I had a million times before. It was the same routine day, after day. It was almost like I was practicing my escape. I did this little stunt so much that people stopped reacting to my little journeys.
Now there good times also on Maple Drive, I remember the whole family gathering in the family room to watch “Soul Train” or “Saturday Night Live. Laughing, Playing, almost like we were the family in the portrait. On Sunday we could be hosting a neighborhood BBQ where I soon forgot my troubles. We had weeks sometimes months of normal life. On other occasions I could hear my Mother being beaten by father late at night until the Sun rose. Some nights my brother and I would be the ones to endure my father’s Dr. Jekyll, Mr. Hyde personality. The fights between my parents always seemed to be about the same thing my Fathers belief that wives had no minds of their own and were only extension of their husband. He carried the same attitude with his wife that he did with his children “Spare the rod, Spoil the children and that includes the wife’ But Every time he hit my Mom it was like she was getting stronger and soon events would transpire that would clear the way for freedom.
You had me at hello
THE "TUNNEL"
My first trip to the infamous nightclub the Tunnel happened shortly after I arrived to New York. My new friend and co-worker Juan promised to show me New York city nightlife. Juan claimed to be the King of clubs. He regaled me with stories of his "VIP status" and dominion over every woman who crossed his path. Now to his credit he was amazing to gaze upon. A mix of Puerto Rican and African American which gave him a Derek Jeter/Alex Rodriquez look. Juan stood 6'3 with a coco complexion ,broad muscular body and piercing eyes. Handsome and personable, Juan was a child of the Inner city, the slums of New Yorks Spanish Harlem. Abandoned at 12 by a drug addict mother Juan learned early to trade on his good looks and charm. He sold drugs and jacked folks up if he needed the cash. After a stint in prison Juan had turned his life around married and had 2 kids. We hit it off instantly, There always seems to be a strong masculine male figure my life who has served for a time as a big brother/father figure. There was Shane in high school, Jason in college and now Juan. As I reflect I realize I was trying to replace the distant father and the troubled brother that was my reality. Juan took me under his wing and offered to to show me New York. We hung out, drank and had good clean fun for weeks before we actually hit the nightlife. At work I'm, sure we made a strange pair. Juan was streetwise, married man with 2 new babies and I was the young country bumpkin with wide eyes and not to wise about the Big City and questionable people. I was also harboring several secrets.
Although Juan hadn't inquired about my sexuality and I never questioned his, We just never discussed it. Juan was the first man I met who was secure with who he was, He didn't care if people thought we were more than friends he knew the truth, period. Some girls at work would snicker and gossip, Juan would just say "Fuck those Bitches, they just jealous, you my man, Mikey, I'm gonna watch out for you." Longing for a male role model I was instantly bonded to him.
As we approached the club I could see hundreds of people crowded around one very distinguished gentleman. The man ignored most and gave the evil eye to all. I would later find out his name was "Daryl". Daryl was and continues to be one of fiercest and sought after Doorman in the land of Gotham. He picks and chooses who enters the club and when. As Daryl surveyed the drunken girls with Long Island hair, tits straining over the tightest half top they could find and poom poom shorts, their mates were steroid muscle boys wearing designer sunglasses so no one can see their dilated pupils, glazed with extasy and special K (Club Drugs). Juan strained for Daryl to notice him, "Thats my boy" he exclaimed, "Yo Man" Daryl looked directly at Juan and turned away. Juan neglected to tell me he hadn't been out clubbing in 3 years(A lifetime in club years) and at 29 he was still gorgeous but no longer on Daryl's young and beautiful guest list. At this point Daryl gave a last glance over the crowd, shook his head and bellowed over the crowd "If you have been in line for over an 15 minutes GO HOME! or at least back to New Jersey, You will never get in this club! At that point Daryl and the bouncers laughed and he turned his back on us as if we would disappear and a new crowd would miraculously appear before his eyes when he turned back around.
I was pissed! Who the fuck was he? I'm not one of these losers on the outside of the club! I wanted in! Didn't he know I was going to be famous? Did he not know I starred as Ellie the Ballerina Elephant at Theme parks, Sang George Strait songs in a hat and cowboy boots to rednecks and Klansman all across Oklahoma City?
He must have missed my stint as the host of a traveling Mexican family's acrobatic and dolphin show or dancing in a cage suspended above the dancefloor in Washington D.C because Chinese business men wanted atmosphere for their conventions. Although I was fairly naive, I had dabbled a little in subcultures already.
At that point I knew that if was going to do the New Yorkclub scene, I had to be fearless. "Fake it until you make it" I gathered my country self together and told Juan "Follow me" , I marched up to Daryl. Giving a him kiss on each cheek and complimenting his outfit at the same time. "Hey Baby(kiss kiss) , You look amazing! This is Juan, You guys know each other,
As I approached Daryl had instinctively opened the ropes. Before he realized what happened we had zipped past and into the club."See you inside " I said as we whisked past security. Although Daryl didn't know me he didn't let on for fear that he had forgotten me. As Juan was telling me how fierce I was, I realized what really happened was that I had taken my first foot into Hell, but Hell was supposed to be bad, This place felt good although it certainly looked like Hell, Strobe and dance lights, people dancing, drinking, smoking, doing drugs, all fucked up and loving every minute of it. I could feel the sexual energy immediately. I had entered Satan's Playpen and was intrigued.
At that moment a new Michael was born. I wanted the nightlife and all the excessess it seemed to offer. The country frat boy was gone and something new was borne into him. Michael would now lay down for a 10 year rest and another spirit would occupy my body, heart and soul.
"Wicked" Thats the word "wicked"
"For the first time in my life I felt..... Really Wicked"
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