I don't know when I first became aware of 'Drugs' as an 'issue'. I expect it was probably through reading the Guardian in my early teens. And of course Adam Ant was 'Goody Two Shoes' (Don't drink, don't smoke, subtle innuendos follow).
I remember at school we were shown a TV programme featuring some ex-con turned journalist in Glasgow which demonstrated the damage heroin was doing in the poorest parts of Glasgow. I think for many years I associated 'heroin' with 'slums of Glasgow'. There was the Olivia Channon thing, spoilt rich kid overdoses on a combination of heroin and champagne.
My father told me that if anyone offers you a cigarette at a party look for the brand name (forgetting about roll-ups). In Sixth Form legendary history teacher Mr Stanton said that drugs were for sale in the American Charcoal Pit on the corner of Manchester Road and Barrington Road. I recall being shocked at the easy availability of drugs in Altrincham, and did consider going shopping, but didn't really know what to ask for, let alone what it would cost.
I didn't encounter drugs at University. Many years later, David told me that they were around,but obviously not grazing my radar. I was given pethidine in A&E when I dislocated my shoulder, and, especially when I learnt it was a heroin derivative, I did feel it would be incredibly easy to crave more and more the warm feelings engendered.
I think the first time I actually encountered actual real illegal drugs was at a Christmas Party given by my cousin. You had to go through the bedroom to go to the loo, and when I did there were a couple of people rolling a joint and my cousin was rather anxious that I didn't see, perhaps because she thought - erroneously - that I might tell her mother. If I had thought about it it wouldn't have surprised me that she knew about drugs. She was really wild in those days, having dropped out of University, dying her hair and living in Peckham. Nowadays she is a respectable headmaster's wife living in a mansion with a swimming pool.
The person who actually introduced me to drugs was my old school friend Ria. On at least one occasion, at her flat in Kennington, I shared a joint with her. When she lived in Shepherd's Bush her flatmate was dating a dealer. Prior to the Manchester United 4 Chelsea 0 FA Cup Final, an entire bag of grass was found down the sofa and that was smoked to the extent that I never formed memories of that Cup final. I think there were a couple more incidents of dope smoking when she lived in Battersea. And much later, in Peckham when she was expecting child number 3 we shared a joint. I think that was the last time I took illegal drugs,and I resolved to give up, knowing that my habit of toking almost every other year risked ruining my future.
The first time I ever encountered anyone trying to sell drugs to me was on Election Night 1997. A group of us were crossing Brixton Road from McDonalds to KFC (maybe it was still Pizza Hut back then) and some bloke approached us. As Steve said, why do we need drugs when we are going to be high on election! One girl whose name I forget, she was a Sixth Former at the time, said "It's getting really bad round here; someone approached my parents the other day". Actually it got a lot of worse, it was difficult to emerge from the Tube without someone calling "Weed skunk, Weed skunk" repeatedly.
When my friend Helen was going through 'Developed Vetting' for MoD work, I was one of her referees. I was asked 'Does she take drugs?'. My careful and truthful answer was 'I've never seen her do so; I'm not sure she'd know where to get them from...' I later found out her response was the occasional joint, to be sociable.
I have smoked a few joints with Jimmy who used to like a smoke in the evenings to help him sleep. But to be honest, it has never really agreed with me. Perhaps a legacy of auditing Seized Goods has left me with an aversion to the aroma of decaying cannabis mixed with cheap booze. I did once hold 70 kg of heroin in my arms but under close supervision!
And then there was the time I watered the household cannabis plant during a police raid!
To be honest, what has most put me off drugs is the cost. Not in any 'if only I could afford that I would be happy' way but more like, I don't see any point in buying Jimmy Choo shoes or flying business class because although I would undoubtedly enjoy them, paying for them means less money to pay for things I really want.
I suspect I may be addicted to Tramadol. But there again, perhaps not.
