Jerome worked a regular job at a clothing store within the city limits. He worked almost everyday. Typically, he would get two days off each week.

Most of the times he was off work on Mondays and Wednesdays. Jerome didn’t hate his job. He didn’t necessary love working there either. It was a means to an ends.

Jerome worked the job to pay the rent, eat out now and then when he could, and maybe sometimes, get a little weed to smoke. He had a live-in girlfriend who he loved.

Every man has a vice, and Jerome loved his weed. He loved smoking more then sex. When he could, Jerome would would smoke two blunts in the morning, two more before work, and another two blunts when he got home.

He wasn’t addicted. Jerome simply loved smoking and it didn’t get in the way of living his life.

When there was weed Jerome would indulge in a good blunt. And, he didn’t stress out when all the weed was gone.

His girlfriend also liked to smoke but not as much as Jerome. She was an alright chick. Not much of looker and not much of a homebody either.

She didn’t work. For Jerome, the female was just a piece of ass that lived with him. He loved blazing shorty up. In return for their transactional relationship, she got a place to stay.

Jerome had it made. He was living his life, got a job, had a place to live (that wasn’t his mom’s spot), and had steady ass whenever he wanted.

He felt like he was “Tha Man.” And at times, Jerome could be a little arrogant. He looked down on drug addicts, people suffering from homelessness, and other less fortunate individuals of society.

Everything was going as it should for Jerome. So, he often felt superior to the underlings of city. That could never be him, begging for change or looking for a fix. He had a job and would always have a job.

Everybody in the city was hiring, so jobs had to be easy to get. Nothing could ever go wrong for him, as long as he had his job.

Love was a warm paycheck, that was faithfully and regularly deposited into his bank account. Jerome’s job sustained his life, and in return, he offered his life to his employer.

One fateful day, Jerome was working the cash register. The most over-the-top costumer strides into his department store.

She behaved like a super extra wannabe celebrity, making exaggerated gestures, and loudly exclaiming about the store and the items available. Gradually, the woman amassed over $900 of merchandise in her cart.

While on line, the super extra woman made sure to get everyone’s attention. Waving her arms about dramatically, she made the point to talk to everybody waiting on line, complained loudly, and was just acting all around cray cray.

Finally, it was the woman’s turn to get to the register to pay. She walks up to Jerome’s register.

As Jerome rung up her items, she glared at him the entire time, saying nothing. She paid for the merchandise with a debit card, no problem.

Jerome was relieved she didn’t use a credit card or try to use a phone app to pay. The bizarre woman grabbed her bags and scurried out of the department store, as quickly as she had entered.

The next day, Jerome’s manager called him into his office. The department store manager informed Jerome that the super extra lady who was acting cray cray yesterday, paid for over $900 of merchandise with a fraudulent card.

The store manager told Jerome that he was immediately fired. Jerome pleaded to keep his job, but the decision came down directly from human resources and was in accordance with the department store’s protocol.

To combat fraudulent activity, the protocol in the company handbook dictated that any customers displaying strange behavior must be immediately reported to the manager. Jerome’s heart sank because he had to accept that the decision was final.

Disheartened, stressed out, and living off a few dollars with no reoccurring income, Jerome was in a bad predicament. He went out to get a blunt and light up in the park.

How would he pay for rent, food, and keep Kesha. Jerome knew that soon, he wouldn’t be able to keep or afford his pretty piece of ass anymore. Then another painful truth hit him, what about weed? How was he going to smoke?

He got home and broke the devastating news to Kesha. She was pissed.

Jerome wanted comforting but all Kesha wanted was blood. Jerome knew that if he didn’t get a job soon, he was going to lose it all. He knew he need a job, but he wanted some pot.

Maybe, he needed to get high to get out there and find work. Without a second thought more, Jerome went into his savings account to get some money for weed.

He bought an ounce. It was only $100. He would get a new job soon enough and put the money back in his account. For what he just went through, it was worth it, paying for an ounce of fire.

Jerome was going to look for a job, but then he got high. He was going to find some work but he got so high!

He was going to pay his rent but then Jerome decided, first, he had to get high. Jerome planned to pay all those mounting bills, but before dealing with all that, he wanted to get high.

Jerome thought about how he was gonna make love to his sweet, piece of ass, Kesha, but then got high. He was gonna treat that ass right after everything, but Jerome was too high.

In a few short months, Jerome lost it all.

His piece of ass, Kesha, left him and moved back in with her mom. The landlord served him an eviction notice. Gradually, there was nothing left in his bank account.

Jerome was broke, busted, and disgusted at his newfound sorry state. His only option was to go the homeless shelter. Jerome was angry. He knew he was better than those bums.

Jerome had had a job. When he worked at the department store, he held his position there for years.

All of these drug addicts could have gotten their lives together if they wanted. He only smoked weed. The bums in homeless shelters were drug addicts.

Jerome sulked as he sat in the shelter. How was he going to maximize the situation?

It would only be a matter of time. Eventually, he would leave the shelter, get a free apartment, and get back to work.

Sitting in his bunk, minding his business, Jerome noticed a well dressed man looking at him. Once he caught Jerome’s attention, “Whats up? You smoke?” the well dressed man asked.

Jerome replied happily, “Hell yeah I smoke. You got?”

The well dressed man introduced himself. “Yeah. My name’s Murder.” He passed Jerome a blunt.

When Jerome hit the blunt he got high like never before. Jerome felt like he was home. And, this was the best weed he had ever smoked.

Little did Jerome know the blunt was laced with crack-cocaine. After a few days, he started showing full blown signs that he was suffering from the disease known as drug addiction.

Jerome didn’t know that it was that easy to contracted the disease known as drug addiction. Drug addiction is a contagious disease. Even Jerome was susceptible to catching this adverse health condition, after taking just one hit of crack-cocaine.

Jerome now lives as a diseased person, a drug addict. After smoking one magical blunt laced with crack-cocaine, he now suffers from an illness that has no cure.

Jerome’s life completely fell apart, following the loss of his sole source of income and employment, working at a department store. Now, like many others, he ended up being vulnerable to contracting the disease.

He will live with this disease of drug addiction for the rest of his life. Jerome is now a crackhead. It is a disease that effects millions.

If only Jerome had never lost his job, maybe he would have continued to live disease-free. Now, he will spend the rest of his life coping with this very common, life-threatening disease. Jerome is a drug addict.