My rehab facility houses over 25 people and I live on floor 8 right under my therapists room. So I have coincidentally met a lot of new people, most who scare the shit out of me.
The guy who lives next to me, in room 8-B is a 68 year old meth addict. He has been on it for 40 years. At night I can literally smell the coffee radiating from his room and he looks like he sleeps about 5 minutes a night. Usually I smile or say hi, and he smiles back with about, 3 little stubs of black teeth left. And when he talks, it does not make much sense.
Me: How was your night Johan?
Johan: The birds were out late. Did you see?
Uh.. no I did not notice.
My therapist is a little touchy feely. Valentina likes to ask me how I am, all the standard questions, she even talks to me about my girlfriend, but she somehow manages to always get a hand on me somewhere. Like this morning we were talking about how I started doing drugs and she leaned off her seat and put all her weight on my leg with her hand and told me that, "I needed to be rid of the bad influences in my life," while purposfully showing me her massive amounts of cleavage. This would be ok, if I were actually single.
We will not even talk about the crackhead downstairs who dry humped me during breakfast. It has only be four and a half days here, I need out!