We all have our little addictions.  Some good, some not so good.  For the past decade, I’ve been hooked on the crack.

I get that urge deep in my bones, and I just have to go see my crack guy.

It’s a quick trip, no waiting.  I’m in and out in 5 minutes.  He used to hang out in the same building as my office. But the landlord forced him out, and we moved a few miles away.  Now I have to sneak out in the middle of the day to get my fix. I don’t tell anyone where I am going.

Years ago it was just $25, but it seems like every time I show that I really need it, the price goes up.  It’s 35 bucks a pop now. But it’s worth it.

Without it, I get pins and needle pain that sometimes runs down my legs. Or a stiffness and ache that makes it hard to get out of bed.

Sure, sure, I should beat this addiction and learn better ways to cope. Eat better, lose weight, exercise, meditation, reduce stress…  But that shit takes effort.  It’s a lot easier just to see the crack guy.

I’m down to just a couple times a month.  How bad can it be?  I could probably quit any time if I wanted; but I just don’t really want to.

I must admit, I’ve generated some of my own crack.  In fact one of my best experiences, I did mostly by myself — an act of master-crack-tion.

I was jonesing bad, and went to see the crack guy.  He tried all his usual tricks, but there was hardly a pop.

I got back in my car, and stopped at the store.  By the time I walked back to the car, I could really feel it.  I twisted in my seat, and each individual vertebra cracked and released in a progressive wave of pops and clicks that built and ran all the way from my tailbone to the base of my neck.

Others have told stories that if you get a big hit, you’ll feel very light headed and need to lay down and put ice on your body to feel right. I had never had crack that powerful before.  But sitting in that car, I was dizzy and flying high.  I was thinking about ice.

You would think such an experience would relieve my addiction, but it’s only made it worse.  Now each time I think about it, I want to repeat it.  But I can’t. It was once-in-a-lifetime crack.

Like every pothead I have every met, I try to spread my addiction to anyone else who will try.  If they tell me they have similar issues, I instantly hook them up with my crack guy.  I’ve tried others, and his crack is the best.

Most don’t try it, because they are afraid, or it just doesn’t work for them.

But for me, keeping an appointment with the chiropractor is an addiction.  And for now, I’m going to say it’s a good one.

I wrote this story in 2019 — while I was still working in Tucson. But both me and the chiropractor moved to Gilbert/Chandler in Phoenix. My guy is out of the crack business — selling white label muscle cream to high school teams as fundraisers is more lucrative and less time consuming than popping backs.

I haven’t replaced him. Just doing the master-crack-tion thing for a while.