Speaking of crack heads, I have a crack head friend and he seems like a nice guy. We are like telephone friends, he lives in South Florida, I live in North Florida. And he doesn't know exactly where I live. I met him in the elevator at the hospital. I was getting on the elevator at the ground floor(parking garage) and I was crying. He came hopping onto the elevator as the doors were starting to close. Came running toward it. I held the door, what floor, 5? okay, I'm going to 7. He looked at me, saw me crying and starting balling himself, a tattooed young guy with metal things stuck through his face. While he was outside smoking, he got word his g/f had stopped breathing, she ended up dying, drug overdose. The elevator stopped at every friggin' floor and we kind of huddled together in the back of the elevator, kind of hugging and kind of patting each other on the back. Saw him again later and asked could I call him in a few days to check on him. He said something about pen and paper and I said, no, I'll remember, just tell me. I am good at remembering numbers and lines of code. Anyway, I called him about 5 days later and he was doing okay. Not great. But I didn't say much on the phone and let him talk. He's 34, can't really read or write and he's a self-admitted crack head. 2 weeks after I called him, he called me, now it's been going back and forth where we talk every couple of weeks.