In the late 1970s and early 80s I worked for a very gifted and savvy small business owner. He had two very close friends that were minority partners in his company. I was doing skilled labor and at first didn't spend a lot of time around the office. I saw some strange goings on and on one evening pulled into the lot, saw the office door open and started in, only to stop when I saw the owner "shooting up". I backed out the door and didn't say a word. Over time, his "Jones thing" as he called it was about to cost him his business. At one point he was blowing $1000- 1200 a day on his habit. His two friends were also addicts. These people have a very close subculture and over time I saw him leave to make scores with doctors, lawyers and some fairly important local people. This made it very clear to me that addicts are not always down and outers living in places live Austin but rather include many movers and shakers and so-called pillars of the community.
He eventually sat down with me, told me it was out of hand and that he was going to get help. He asked me to take over the day to day operations of the company, hire someone to hold the purse strings and save the company while he tried to get straight. I agreed and for a short time it seemed that he was really working at getting better. He checked into rehab for about a month and came out looking much better. Soon, however, checks started coming up missing, then one day he asked to borrow my car while his was in the shop, That evening I got a call from an LPD police officer friend that I had known for some time. After some stumbling around he just came out and asked me what my car was doing at Papa Charlie's on Cane Run that day as it was under surveillance and it was known to be selling drugs. As a friend, he asked me if I had a "problem" and could he help me in any way. I assured him that I did not and that someone else had been using my car. The next day, the bookkeeper and I started an audit and found that numerous checks had been cashed that week and the week before where her name had been forged on the signature in the owner's very identifiable handwriting. The bookkeeper and I both resigned shortly thereafter. In time, I found out that his wife had smuggled drugs into him while he was in rehab and in-fact he had never been "clean". The last I heard of this very gifted person he was living in an old travel trailer on a friends property in Arizona His partners both died years ago from hepatitis.
The purpose of this long-winded rant is to emphasize that these people are rarely capable of making sound decisions. The drugs control their life. They will lie, steal, subvert, and in some case harm others when they are "Jonesin'". They truly cannot be trusted to be around others in ALMOST all instances. The more affluent ones that can afford their habit may be able to function and appear completely normal and productive but they are only one hard withdrawal away from doing whatever they must to make it go away.