There is a violence to snorting. It takes physical force to ingest, more than smoking. Buckley licked a wet finger to make stick the little granules that didn’t make it into his nose. He gummed them with a finger like a fishhook. He pressed one nostril and sniffed, and did likewise to the other before looking to to the ceiling. Gabriel watched his friend’s Adam’s apple bob and tried to control his shock. Buckley looked at him with the look of people who have just removed their glasses but he was still wearing his glasses.
Kevin snorted a line. They leaned back into their respective couches and relaxed. Gabriel smoked another bowl and watched wisps billow from the huge bong’s mouth. After a few minutes of relaxation and mental labyrinthing they stood up to leave. They dapped Kevin, saying thanks, and nodded at the kids on the couch.
There’s no doubt that drugs are a social cohesive. Alcohol is a social lubricant – you drink to make friends easily. If you are with people as they try a drug and you don’t partake, you are on the outskirts of their social circle – you aren’t able to relate over the most basic feelings; you are on a different plane. As a result, you grow farther apart, watching them herd buffalo, you cry like an Indian on a ledge, judging their actions, dissociating yourself (that fundamental human instinct of categorizing and differentiating that has created such vast gulfs between groups and classes, races and ethnicities, creeds and beliefs) as patently different because they separated themselves by choice.
Due to that choice they fundamentally disagree with you, since you were offered it too and rejected it. So it’s not surprising that Buckley and Gabriel grew apart over the course of time, especially when Buckley got deeper into opiates.
Your comments and critiques on this vignette are appreciated.