Role Model

"In the old days, believe it or not, a junkie used to be a role model of a sort. He'd be on the corner draped down with his Italian silk suit, his handmade shoes, his Stetson or his specially made hat that had to be handled just so and tilted just right; and with his new car, and his old lady by his side wearing just this side of Bergdorf Goodman. She didn't have quite that much taste, but she was glamorous in some way. This man's there to collect from one of the local dealers in the area and when he steps out of that car the kids stop and stare. 'Wow, man, that cat's made it. Look at him, look at his old lady—man, wouldn't you like some of that.' That whole bullshit trip.

Now, of course, that kind of attraction is gone. No one like that comes around anymore. No more of the glamorous chick or the shiny new car. Even if they wanted it, they couldn't have it. No more of the best for that man . . ."
—Herbert Huncke, Guilty of Everything, 1990