blue moon (2)

Friday, August 12, 2005

Inherit The Smoke ©

Many of you know that in my youth I used to sell pot and hash. Did I say youth well yes but it went on for 16 years which put me into my late 20s. Around 1987 the girl friend got pregnant with my first daughter and I decided to quit the dealing and live off my paycheck. I used to work at a regular job too. The money from the drugs just paid for some of the perks we enjoyed.
Now my drug business was not like those people you see standing on the street whispering to you as you walked by, informing you of their wares, no it was personal.
Most of my customers were friends and people in high places. This included a couple of city cops and one female RCMP detective who caught me red handed one day.
She didn’t want to bust me but she had followed me around so that she could make a deal with me. She had a fetish for young men and gave the drugs to them, so she says.
She used to meet me every Friday and pick up her 5 grams of hash and head off.
To each his own I guess.
Now my dilemma was giving the business to someone that would treat my customers with respect and not try and rip them off. It was a good business, I had everyone calling on Friday and buying a week’s worth at a time. This put a lot of money in my pocket on a Friday and me taking fewer risks.
I would make about 50 stops on a Friday night so I needed someone with a car.
My friend Phil had no job and was on welfare. He dealt drugs but he sucked at it. Mostly because he short changed his customers and they never came back.
I called him over for beer one night and offered him my business on a trial basis. I told him all I wanted was 100 dollars of hash a week and the rest was his. That’s about a $1000 profit for one days work.
His eyes lit up and professed that he wouldn’t disappoint me.
My eyes rolled in the back of my head.
I also supplied the source for him to get what he needed and I told him I would pay for his first batch and he could pay me later.
I sat there telling him what every customer was like and how they should be treated. There were some beautiful women I sold to and all they want is their drugs. There were 2 Olympic athletes who only wanted their drugs and secrecy. There were lawyers and politicians also and I used to go see their mistress/secretaries which ever you prefer and give it to them.
And I told him there were a couple of nuts too that were to be watched always and NOT TO SHORT CHANGE THEM!!!!!!!!!
Philip was keen and assured me that everything would be all right.
So I told him that he would go with me the first Friday and watch how it went and I would introduce him to everyone.
Friday came around and I made him use his car and drive us everywhere we had to go. I showed him how easy it was and everything was on the up and up when it came to weight and price.
Dealing is still ILLEGAL but I was honest and gave my customers what they paid for. After all it is a repeat business.
Afterwards I took him out for dinner and beers and he was ready to go next week.
Next Friday came around and I gave Philip the pager and the hash that I bought for him and off he went.
My friends and customers were in good hands…..……..
Then why am I nervous?
I sat there all night on my balcony enjoying the evening with the girl friend when Phil’s car pulled up. He waved and came over.
I asked him how it was going and he told me it was slow but was managing.
I asked him what he was doing here and he said that Dave across the street had called him.
The alarm bells started to ring in my head. I told him not to fuck around with this guy because he was NUTS really NUTS. This whole family was a pack of murderers and 2 brothers were in jail for it.
Then he said the one thing that always gets me worried when Phil says it.
He said”don’t worry”
Then he got up and went across the street, through the back yard and then he was gone out of view.
It wasn’t more than 20 minutes when Phil came blasting out of the back yard and running down the street and 10 seconds later Dave came running out chasing him swinging a big machete.
I never knew Phil could run so fast.
He ran around the block and then went straight to the car and took off.
Dave came stumbling home 10 minutes later.
He looked at me and said he tried to short change him.
Dave has his own scales and weighs everything he buys, most people don’t but he does.
I called him over and took care of it.
As the night wore on I got a couple of phone calls from friends complaining and I assured them they would be taken care of.
Later that night Phil showed up and when I answered the door I was ready to give him shit but I started laughing instead.
He was standing there with blood on his shirt, a lump and scrape on his forehead and the makings of 2 black eyes.
I asked him what happened and he told me one of the customers beat the shit out of him for staring at his wife’s tits.
I asked if he was and he said yes and how could he not they were practically hanging out.
Well I know the customer and he was right it was hard not to stare.
After the talk we had I told him that people were complaining that he was screwing them and that I was going to keep dealing. I gave him the profits of the night and off he went to the hospital to get that broken nose looked at.
You can’t say I didn’t try. I finally managed to split my list among some other people I know but that was 2 years later and I did keep a couple of close friend who were suffering from cancer and other serious ailments. They have since passed away and now I am free of it, but it was a hell of a ride.
Sometimes I sit back in my chair and in my head see Dave chasing Phil down the street with a machete. LMAO

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Friday is here and I have a new friend I am adding to my blog roll. So why don’t you all scoot over and say hello and see what she has to say, and if you leave there with a need to get a Light House Tattoo then don’t blame me.

Fridays Joke


This probably won't make too much sense to some of you younger people.
You have no idea what you missed.!!!!!
My Mom used to cut chicken, chop eggs and spread mayo on the same cutting board with the same knife and no bleach, but we didn't seem to get food poisoning.
My Mom used to defrost hamburger on the counter AND I used to eat it raw sometimes too, our school sandwiches were wrapped in wax paper in a brown paper bag not in ice pack coolers, but I can't remember getting e coli?
Almost all of us would have rather gone swimming in the lake instead of a pristine pool (talk about boring), no beach closures then.
The term cell phone would have conjured up a phone in a jail cell, and a pager was the school PA system.
We all took gym, not PE... and risked permanent injury with a pair of high top Ked's (only worn in gym) instead of having cross-training athletic shoes with air cushion soles and built in light reflectors. I can't recall any injuries but they must have happened because they tell us how much safer we are now.
Flunking gym was not an option... even for stupid kids!I guess PE must be much harder than gym.
Every year, someone taught the whole school a lesson [and provided comic relief by running in the halls with leather soles on linoleum tile and hitting the wet spot.
How much better off would we be today if we only knew we could have sued the school system.
Speaking of school, we all said prayers and sang the national anthem and staying in detention after school caught all sorts of negative attention.
We must have had horribly damaged psyches.
I can't understand it.
Schools didn't offer 14 year olds an abortion or condoms (we wouldn't have known what either was anyway) but they did give us a couple of baby aspirin and cough syrup if we started getting the sniffles.
What an archaic health system we had then.
Remember school nurses? Ours wore a hat and everything.
I thought that I was supposed to accomplish something before I was allowed to be proud of myself.
I just can't recall how bored we were without computers, Play Station, Nintendo, X-box or 270 digital TV cable stations must be repressing that memory as I try to rationalize through the denial of the dangers could have befallen us as we trekked off each day about a mile down the road to some guy's vacant lot, built forts out of branches and pieces of plywood, made trails, and fought over who got to be the Lone Ranger.
What was that property owner thinking, letting us play on that lot?
He should have been locked up for not putting up a fence around the property, complete with a self-closing gate and an infrared intruder alarm.
Oh yeah... and where was the Benadryl and sterilization kit when I got that bee sting? I could have been killed played king of the hill on piles of gravel left on vacant construction sites and when we got hurt, Mom pulled out the 48 cent bottle of Mercurochrome (kids liked it better because it didn't sting like iodine did) and then we got our butt spanked.
Now it's a trip to the emergency room, followed by a 10-day dose of a $49 bottle of antibiotics and then Mom calls the attorney to sue the contractor for leaving a horribly vicious pile of gravel where it was such a threat.
We didn't act up at the neighbor's house either because if we did, we got our butt spanked (physical abuse) here too and then we got butt spanked again when we got home.
Mom invited the door to door salesman inside for coffee, kids choked down the dust from the gravel driveway while playing with Tonka trucks (Remember why Tonka trucks were made tough .. it wasn't so that they could take the rough Berber in the family room), and Dad drove a car with leaded gas.
Our music had to be left inside when we went out to play and I am sure that I nearly exhausted my imagination a couple of times when we went on two week vacations. I should probably sue the folks now for the danger they put us in when we all slept in campgrounds in the family tent
Summers were spent behind the push lawn mower and I didn't even know that mowers came with motors until I was 13 and we got one without an automatic blade-stop or an auto-drive. How sick were my parents?
Of course my parents weren't the only psychos.
I recall Donny Reynolds from next door coming over and doing his tricks on the front stoop just before he fell off. Little did his Mom know that she could have owned our house. Instead she picked him up and swatted him for being such a goof.
It was a neighborhood run amuck.
To top it off, not a single person I knew had ever been told that they were from a dysfunctional family. How could we possibly have known that?
We needed to get into group therapy and anger management classes?
We were obviously so duped by so many societal ills, that we didn't even notice that the entire country wasn't taking Prozac!
How did we ever survive?

Have a nice weekend.

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