PAUL rented a nice rambler duplex and shortly I moved in with he and his current rommate, a willowy woman with dark hair named Jennifer. Despite the living arrangements, Paul and Jennifer were merely friends. Both had steady love interests, who seemed to tolerate the unconventional co-habitation.

For me, the place was a great base of operations. A constant stream of friends poured in and out. Though the apartment was in a residential area, there happened to be a watering hole, called Jacksonís, only a few blocks away. If I got too drunk to drive then I could stagger my way home. Not that I needed to be anywhere to drink. The duplex became a regular hangout, and the site of my infamous Jose Cuervo empty-bottle collection, which eventually topped out at over three hundred bottles; ninety nine percent of which I personally drank.

This was only the tip of the alcoholic iceberg. I stayed sober for work, but any other time it was open drinking season. Every morning Iíd wake up with my head pounding, hacking up the contents of my feeble excuse for lungs. Iíd think of Heather often, but Iíd quickly drown my physical and mental pain in another deluge of drink.

Despite my alcoholism, I had the presence of mind to never let it interfere with my work. The pay wasnít great but the tips more than made up for it; I had ample opportunity to meet beautiful women, and I was always being invited to an after hours party of some sort. Some invitations were more enticing than others.

Trouble began brewing one night when Sebastian showed up at Redd's, a big-breasted blonde bimbo hanging all over him like the cheap smelling, but probably very expensive, cologne that he wore. In addition, he brought his usual entourage of Sam and Frank- one of which was fortunate enough to have brought his own bimbo. I served them up some stiff drinks at the bar and after a few drinks Sebastian invited me to party with them after the Redd's shut down.

Sebastian had a good-sized house in a respectable part of town. From the exterior, it was by all accounts, nothing out of the ordinary. Inside, it was like a biblical den of iniquity. Erotic Oriental paintings and wall hangings adorned the walls, and the downstairs was nothing more than an orgy pit equipped with circular bed, mirrored ceiling and colored lights.

In the months to come I attended several parties at Sebastianís house. He always kept them to a manageable size of less than a dozen, and at least half the attendees were women- most of them attractive and seemingly available. Sebastian appeared to have an endless supply of these women, which he appeared to rotate to Sam and Frank when he tired of them. The alcohol always flowed freely and I was always offered cocaine.

At first I resisted. As a kid Iíd gotten pretty heavy into drugs for a period of time, and it was hell getting out. But with the amount of tequila I was drinking, self-destruction was already inevitable, and so I chose to ignore the wisdom Iíd garnered from my past. Maybe, a little bit of cocaine would speed me on my way to death. About the third time I was offered, I accepted. Sam pushed me over a mirror with a small mound of the white powder in the center. I