In the summer of 2001 everyone was in the business of selling hard drugs. When I say “everyone” I mean the 2% of who society considers low-lives. At the time, I was working one day a week at my shitty retail job because that was all I could bear.
An old friend and I hooked up again because of similar circumstances. At his place one day he mentions how he was offered a job in a dial-a-dope business that would pay him $20,000 a month delivering crack to end users.
“I don’t know if you want in or not,” he said.
I did’t know if I did or not either. You might be questioning my 21-year-old morals but where I came from there was nothing wrong with anything if it meant $20,000 in your pocket every month. The way we saw it was someone was going to do it. If half the drug dealers died tomorrow it would just mean the other half would make double.
Laying in bed that night I was contemplating the pros and cons but really I was just trying to talk myself out of it. It’s just in my nature or maybe nurture to take the chickenshit route. Getting murdered by a junkie or some other dealer was a possibility but what worried me more was getting a criminal record. In my mind a criminal record meant that I would have to be doing dirt for the rest of my life or have to work a lowly job.
In my savings I had $7000, I owned my car which had insurance for the year and I also had plans of travelling in the near future. At 21 years old I had never even been on a plane before or your typical family vacation. So I decided — no drug dealing. I pictured being in jail and thinking to myself that I didn’t have to do it. Having ambition is considered a desirable trait but the funny thing is, if I had ambition I would have embraced dope dealing with open arms.
Having ample time though and being curious I went on runs with my friend. We picked up an ounce of crack that was broken up into grams and away we went. Damn phone would not stop ringing. It was too many calls for a couple of dope dealing novices. We were slow but at the end of the 8 hour shift we still brought in enough for a $500 profit. Hmmm, $500 x 30 = $15,000. Holy shit, he wasn’t kidding about being able to pocket $20,000 a month.
He offered me $100 a day to just sit with him in the car but I declined. I figured if I was going to do that then I might as well just do it myself. Most would say that they would never sell drugs but most people also never have the opportunity. As for the morality of it — no one has an issue with the liquor store clerk who sells you unlimited bottles of poison.