I tried heroin once, with two friends who were addicted in varying degrees. Pete is dead now, and I hope that Bruce is not.
Pete was in bad shape, then, and I wanted to know what the drug is like. (Pete died of HIV, a while after I had stopped being able to see him.)
I smoked a bit through a tube of paper or something (this was in the late 80's, and the memory is dim about the small details.) This was in the house where I was living with Pete in Eugene Oregon. In the back bedroom, with a small sheet of aluminum foil....
They wanted to get more, and we all agreed that I might as well experience it shot up.
We went to a nearby town. In my mind, we were going to score and then go down to the nearby lake, you know considering the fact that is was my first.... Make it an event.... We ended up shooting in the Dairy Queen parking lot.
We shot up.
They argued more.
We got beer and went back to the city.
The drug felt good; it was like liquid painkillers but the experience was dirty; sordid. I saw what it was like. My curiosity was satisfied.
Oh, one more thing. I went to work in the morning, at a restaurant. I felt violently impatient about stupid shit like when I couldn't easily fit an insert into the steamer. I slammed it down. Hyper-irritability.