Posted on July 27, 2015 by Allie Conti in Vice Vice, By Allie Conti Stand outside the emergency-room entrance to Kings County Hospital Center in Brooklyn any day of the week and you’ll see them. Sometimes alone, but more often in pairs, they get rolled through the sliding glass door and parked in the air-conditioned lobby with their mouths agape and gazes frozen somewhere in the middle distance, like some terrifying figures that sprang from Goya’s brush. On a recent Wednesday, a young Hispanic paramedic showed up with a middle-aged, unresponsive woman wearing a tie-dye shirt. Although he couldn’t be sure, he’d put money on the fact that she’d been smoking K2—what people in Brooklyn call synthetic marijuana, although it’s known elsewhere as spice or spike.
