It’s 2 PM on New Year’s Day and the apartment is a mess. Last night was a blur of color, sound, and smoke, and only in the light of day have forms and shapes started to make sense again. Cigarette butts and empty beer bottles are scattered across the pock-marked dining room table. On the couch are two slumbering brunettes; high-heeled shoes and purses litter the carpet like spent cartridge shells after a night of battle on the dance floor. I walk down the hall toward the bathroom and a girl who I’ve never seen before emerges from X’s room wearing nothing but a bedsheet.

A few days ago X bought half a kilo of weed and sold most of it in a matter of hours to friends of his. Although he has a day job like most other people his age, when he’s running short on money he supplements his income with the occasional drug deal. Back in the day he did it full time, so he knows the ropes. Near the end of the night a Middle Eastern man wearing a tight black t-shirt and an expensive puffy jacket came in and dropped off a small bag of coke. Then last night, before we celebrated New Year’s Eve at an old warehouse X and a German girl named Ines did rails off the dining room table. Sometime between then and now I decided X is the closest to Charlie Sheen I have ever met, so we had a conversation about his life.

So, where to begin? You lost your virginity at 14–tell me about that.

I lost my virginity to my first girlfriend. I think we were together at that point for half a year–OK, maybe just a month.
The first time we had sex was in the Ardennes. Her parents had a house they rented for holidays and they took us there together. Also some friends, 3 or 4 came along. The other friends were sleeping with us in the same room but it was in the middle of the night so we had sex anyways.

When was the first time you smoked a joint?

With a friend named Evita, also at age 14. Right next to a fire station. It was quite heavy, a blend of weed and hash. I smoked on a school day at noon, went back to class and then told everyone I was stoned. I don’t remember how the teacher reacted to all this!

First time I took a pill–this was when I was selling–was with an Irish dealer who everyone called “The Mom”. I was selling half a kilo a week. I was 15 by then. I was 16 when I tried LSD.

What’s the story about the LSD?

I tried it on the first night of summer vacation when I was 16. The next day I had to go to work at my uncle’s factory, they make industrial glue. I was waiting for a friend to come along and buy 100g off of me, near the river, with my headphones on. Out of the corner of my eye I saw some people waving at me to get my attention. They had a small rubber dinghy with two German shepherds, two suitcases, and they were rowing toward me. I had a big joint in my mouth which they noticed. They were Bretons who sold their business and decided to travel with their dogs and their belongings. They got some weed from me and in exchange let choose from a big plastic bag full of drugs–like a goodie bag of psychedelics. I chose 6 Mad Hatter Tablets of LSD.

I took one hit of acid and 15 minutes later nothing happened, so I took another. I went onto the Internet and started reading about how it was going to take 6 or 12 hours–when I would already be in the factory. At 5:30 AM I was still completely awake; I painted all over my room, traced the smoke from my cigarettes creating lines across my bedroom mirror. Also I smelled colors, heard birds cawing–all those things they tell you that happen when you take LSD. At 8 AM I had to go to my uncle’s factory, and was relatively stable. I was starting to come down so I was a bit more functional than when I started.

A week later I saw some friends from Brussels. They told me that a few days before they had to wait for an hour to cross a bridge because a small dinghy with two German shepherds and two hairy Frenchmen was passing by–I almost cried from laughter!

What’s one of the craziest sexual encounters you’ve had?

I was walking in the Red Light District in Antwerp, got fucked up in a club and started wandering. Suddenly I found myself in a whorehouse getting blown, but I told the woman that I couldn’t pay for it because I had no money. The next thing I remember I was fucking her, but that’s when I noticed that she had a dick. At least it was free!

And of course I’ve had lots of threesomes. I had a group of lesbian friends that stayed here for a time, maybe a month, and sometimes I banged two of them at a time. But really, I’m not especially attracted to them. One of my exes once brought a beautiful black woman home to me, just for fun. We stayed up most of the night and took ecstasy. The day after the girl was sleeping between us, sweating and trembling, then she woke up and told us she was getting over a heroin addiction. That was kind of a scare, but after we got tested and it was negative, so it turned out OK.

Have you ever felt like you were going too far, over the edge?

Usually I know when my body is saying no, but I don’t always listen! The worst thing that ever happened was a few years ago. I had taken speed for two or three days straight, afterwards I didn’t eat or drink for a while. I had a heavy crash and was basically shitting water, had a bloody nose, and from the strain of vacating my bowels I began to puke. The bloody nose was definitely the cherry on top.

When I was still dealing a lot (age 22-23), I used to party from Thursday-Sunday. On Sunday evening one of my buddies who was also dealing would hang out with me. We would do cocaine together, usually in his kitchen–smoking it so that by Monday we would come down a bit gently. One Monday afternoon I heard footsteps outside in the hallway. The entire place was a mess and overflowing with coke, weed, and loose cash. I was a bit paranoid and thought the footsteps were police, so I hid some of the weed. There was a knock at the door and two firemen were standing there, asking if there was a gas leak–someone downstairs had called them up. I told them no, closed the door and went into the apartment, then noticed two other firemen by the window–they went up to check on my apartment by the ladder. Somehow we weren’t reported to the police.

Another time, I had just broken up with my ex, who was cheating on me. Her lover thought I had trashed his car for revenge, but it wasn’t me. A few weeks after the breakup, this guy came to my apartment and accused me of trashing his car. In the other room of my apartment was a buddy of mine who’s really tall and well-built. My ex’s lover was about to punch me in the face when he noticed my friend getting up, wondering what was going on–instead of punching me, he freaked out and left in a hurry.

Do you feel happy with your life, and what you have chosen?

Yes! If I compare my life with what was going on last year, I would definitely say yes! Life is what happens to you when you’re making plans for something totally different.

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