When I was 20-21 years old, I worked at a bar in Baltimore. I was an alcoholic, a heroin addict and a coke head all wrapped into one. I was completely lost. Tony, who was friends with my boss, would come in sometimes and rent a room to play poker. I knew of him at this point but didn't know him...
I used to get off work at around 3 am every morning and take a cab to my dope dealer's house (let's call him "D") in West Baltimore, jump the fence in the back alley and beat on the kitchen window until he woke up to serve me. I'd jump back in the cab and be on my way. Once I came in the daytime and Tony was there. Turns out, he owned the house that D lived in. What's even better... it was a halfway house.
D had gone through Tony's recovery housing program, and Tony had let him rent the apartment on the first floor so that he could get his daughter back. So, now Tony was stuck in this rental agreement and wasn't happy that he couldn't kick the guy out who was selling heroin in the same building as his recovery house. He had exchanged some words with me that day. Now, you might not be able to picture this in Tony, but those words were a little brash. He obviously knew what I was there for.
Fast forward several months and I had hit rock bottom. As a result, my boss called Tony to see if he could help me, then put me on the couch on the 2nd floor of his bar. Knowing that I was probably going to be taken to rehab, I decided to do the responsible thing - I called D to bring me some dope, downed a bottle of wine and drank all the vodka I possibly could. I was already going through heroin withdrawal and was hurting pretty bad. Meanwhile, I passed out waiting.
Finally, I wake up to D coming in to take care of me and Tony walks in about 20 seconds behind him. Worst timing ever. Long story short, I didn't get my dope and this guy Tony was taking me to Johns Hopkins.
He had lots of witty things to say on the way to detox and I started to realize what a character he was. He was sure to point out that I had pissed myself drunk while I was crashed on the couch waiting for him, something I didn't even realize until he brought it up. Even as wasted as I was, I was still embarrassed. I can't believe he even let me in his car, to be honest. BUT, he did. While he had lots of slick stuff to say about it, he didn't make me feel less than a human for the position I was in.
After detox and rehab, I ended up in Tony's recovery house 4 doors down from the address I used to buy dope from. Fortunately, Tony was able to convince D to move on by then. This started a 20-year friendship with one of the most significant figures in my entire life.
I didn't stay sober that time around, or the next time or even the time after that. But Tony had taught me a lot and he was always there when I was ready to try again.
When I finally did sober up for the last time, Tony gave me a job at a restaurant and bar he now owned. Coincidentally, it was the same bar he had pulled me out of 8 years prior. I soon became his General Manager and then a business partner in a couple of ventures following.
Looking back now at that day when Tony picked me off of that couch, I could have never imagined the impact he would have on my life moving forward. In the end, Tony had played several roles in my life during our friendship, and I, in turn, played several roles in his. Whatever the case, one thing was constant - no matter what I did, whatever mistakes I made or whatever problems I had - Tony was there. He was a best friend to me, even when I fell short as a friend to him.
He never let me forget the day he picked me off of that couch, and loved to tell me about how I soaked his car seat in piss. We would still argue over the details, but he had it mostly right (but, don't tell HIM I said that). And to be honest, I still haven't gotten over the fact that if he had just arrived 5 minutes later I could have copped my dope that day.
Tony, I love you man and I'm really going to fucking miss you.