I watched Paul snort two of the four lines he laid out, one in each nostril. Paul’s eyes cringed and his forehead creased in what looked like pain. After a pause he pinched his nose to snort what hung on his nasal membranes and ran to the kitchen faucet. He turned it on and rinsed his nose and exclaimed, “That shit is the rocket fuel. You have to rinse those dirty chemicals out or they will eat through the cartilage eventually.”
Paul walked back and handed me the rolled up hundred dollar bill. I hesitated and thought about my Mom. She’d always said that doing drugs fried the brain God blessed you with, and doing them showed you weren’t grateful for those blessings. Then I thought about how alone I was with my brother in juvenile hall, the five day notice to vacate the house I was living in, and the over $40,000 I had just lost. There was a huge gaping hole inside of my chest that I blamed my Dad for. I grabbed the rolled up hundred dollar bill.
I snorted a part of the first line and literally jumped off the ground. The pain in my eye was so sharp and foreign that my hand covered it and the rest of my face seemed to cringe around it. That eye with all of the pain in it was flooded with tears and I felt my brain opening up. It was just like Paul had said, I felt Focused! And Happy! I went back to the mirror and snorted some in my other nostril and the same thing happened but this time I was ready for it. Once I gathered myself I studied Paul in greater clarity.
He had brown wavy hair and a meaty face that suited him well. He had a rugged look that could dance between G.Q. and grungy. Other than being a little fidgety he didn’t look like a dope fiend or even a drug user unless you looked close. He was dressed pretty sharp and looked pretty athletic.
“Can you get it cheaper when you buy quantity? When are you going to buy some more?” It felt like my mind was turning things over so fast I almost couldn’t wait for Paul to answer before I kept firing questions at him.
It looked like Paul was hoping I’d be intrigued. What a wheeler-dealer!
“As soon as the kingpin comes down from the mountain.”
All I understood was that he was dealing with a kingpin.
Paul continued. “He goes by kingpin Bob, or Big Bob. He’s from San Bernardino, but he calls it San Berdoo. He lives in Redlands up near the mountain and he cooks better speed than any of the biker dope I’ve found!”
If Paul was baiting the hook, I was biting.
I asked, “If he cooks it… How much does it cost him to make?”
Paul looked like he had often wondered the same thing. “If you listen to him tell it, it’s more expensive than you’d think. He comes up with all of these extra expenses that don’t make sense to me. But then again, it’s an insanely risky business so I really don’t doubt him. I’ve heard him say that it cost him just under a thousand for the ingredients to make a pound. He’ll sell that pound for $8,000-$10,000 in San Bernardino. There’s more speed than money there so it’s cheaper. I could milk that pound into $25,000 here.”
That was all I needed to hear. I could picture myself incorporating this kingpin Bob into my program and making that $40,000 that had been seized back, A.S.A.P.!
CHAPTER 49
Paul came over to my house to help me clean up and as soon as we entered he exclaimed, “They tore your pad a new one!”
That’s all I let Paul get out. My mind was spinning with possibilities so fast that I told him my life story and time disappeared. The speed I had snorted had me so wired I couldn’t believe what an amazing problem solver I was! I was going to fix all of the wreckage in my life and enjoy doing it immensely! My brain was now operating optimally! It felt like there had been a missing piece in my mind that was now filled! Why hadn’t I found out about this shit earlier? I spracked around in circles cleaning and talking the whole time.
Paul stopped what he was doing and watched me. He started laughing and said, “That rocket fuel is going to take you on a ride!”
I hit Paul up for another line. He gave it to me and I pulled out my own I.D. and crushed it up on the table. I couldn’t believe how hard it was. It made a cracking sound like I was breaking glass until it was finally crunched up enough to chop up.
Paul said, “Be careful. You already won’t sleep for a couple of days from the other line you snorted!”
I blew right through that stop sign. After snorting enough to choke on, I gathered myself against the eye pinching pain and it felt like I could focus even harder. I remembered what Jasmine had said about contesting the five day notice to vacate my house, so I hit Paul up about it.
Paul answered, “No way. Maybe if you owned it. Look at it this way; you’re already going to lose your security deposit so just cut your losses. It wouldn’t be worth it to put yourself on their radar. Right now you’re just a fish that got fried and law enforcement is already looking for other fish to fry. If you make a big stink about it your name will keep circulating. You’d be developing yourself into a constant enemy and they would continue to target you. Just let it ride.”
That made good sense. Paul was continuing to impress me. We made it to the kitchen and I saw the dog food!!
“Oh my God!! Our dogs!! They’re in the pound!! How many days do they give you before they euthanize them?”
Paul proved to have a love for dogs and rose to the occasion. He handled everything. He called the pound and we raced there in his Saleen Mustang in the nick of time. They would have been put to sleep the following morning. In the next couple of days Jasmine came to the rescue and found a home for them.
CHAPTER 50
I didn’t sleep for more than a week. I looked at sleep like a weakness. If I gave in to it, I was giving up the fight! If I gave in to it, I’d have to face a ton of shit I didn’t want to face. A black hole of depression. I’d rather try and problem solve my life and conquer the riddle. I only needed to snort a couple of lines a day and the elevator ride took me up where I could run from everything and concentrate on my ambitions of enterprise. Unfortunately, the elevator would come back down and I’d stress on how scared and lonely I was. Questions like: what am I doing? How did I get here? Where is it that I’m going? When I searched through these thoughts I found that the mental pain hurt more than anything I’d ever felt physically. I thought about my childhood memories and let anger carry me.
I thought, if I have to do it alone, so be it. I welcomed the self propelled will that was fueled by righteous anger that also slipped into a comforting rage at times. I told myself, I’m going to hold on to my conscience, though. I’m going to go into the business with integrity and honor, and regulate those who don’t have any. If there is anyone preying on the weak, I’m going to check them. If I find fraudulent people in the business, I’m going to give them some truth. If this works out right, I’ll be like an underground mayor who brings honor to our business.
CHAPTER 51
The first round with Paul was purely an investment; a study of the playing field. Paul claimed to do his business with a few rules he never broke, according to him. I could respect his integrity but found a flaw. His rules were: He didn’t deal with anyone he didn’t know, he didn’t deal with anyone under 21 and he didn’t turn people on to the drug who hadn’t already had experience with drugs. His other famous saying was, “Money talks, and bull shit walks.”
I hit him up over a pool game. “Paul, you have some good rules… but you broke half of them dealing with me.”
Paul racked the balls and I could tell he’d already thought about it. “Those rules are rarely broken, if ever… on general principles… You might be the first.”
There was no way Paul could make me over 21 but he gave it his best.
“The most important rule I mentioned was not to deal with people you don’t know. You’re probably thinking that I don’t know you. Let me ask you something, how can you really know anyone? You can’t. You can only take what you can see and learn from it. People will always say, Oh, I know him or her… they would never do that! But have they seen that person they think they know really pushed und
er extreme circumstances? Do they just talk a good game, or have they proved it in dire circumstances? Most people don’t even know what dire circumstances are! So all you can do is study the situation and do your homework carefully and you’ll have a better shot at predicting right. If you do this assiduously, you’ll hone your instincts into a sharp tool that can penetrate into the truth and separate any exterior fraudulence. I’m doing this with you. I’d already heard about you and your brother before I met you. Your specialty is moving high and low grade marijuana in big and small sizes. That means you have the skills to develop deep networks with the potential to earn. Then you got busted… You didn’t rat. Then, when I met you I saw how relentless you are and thought to myself, that guy would make a good business partner! Once we started talking I saw even more—that you have a family first mentality and I could see how loyal you are. That’s rare these days. You told me your Dad comes from a few generations of iron fisted discipline. I also learned from you that your Mom’s side of the family has their roots in Sicily. They are passionate people and I think you’ve got a lot of that in your genes. You told me how your grandfather took good care of your Mom in New Orleans while owning a bar. Then, through prohibition. Is that enough homework, or what?”
I realized a few things. Paul could probably sell ice to an Eskimo, and that I had done a lot of talking since my introduction to speed. I had armed him with too much information and knew I had to start guarding my tongue. I filtered through Paul’s speech and decided to give him the benefit of the doubt as to why he was doing business with me. Or maybe… it was more about the money, contacts and potential I had? What can you expect?
Another thing I studied about Paul was his business philosophy. Instead of stacking his cash to get better and better wholesale prices on quantity, he spent his profits on toys. He had the Saleen Mustang, a boat, tons of fishing gear and a garage full of other things. He seemed to be comfortable renting his apartment and staying in the same rat race. I hit him up on it and ran down my plan to own a house first, and then acquire the toys when there was enough capital to keep everything rolling right.
Paul told me, “You don’t want to get that big for a couple of reasons. You’d have a greater chance of landing on the law’s radar and catching a bigger chunk of time, and the saying, “easy come, easy goes” is true. Because of these two things, I buy toys.”
The more I saw of Paul’s business network the more I realized he was true to his word about the rules he lived by. All of his business was with people he’d known for years and they were all over 21. Except for me, and a girl named Natasha.
It also turned out that Paul was as competitive as I and we went at it in darts, pool and even bowling. He couldn’t hang in some of the other sports like basketball, baseball and football but was down to give it his best shot. I found that Paul’s specialty other than the speed business was fixing things with his hands. He was an amazing auto mechanic. Almost all of the shops around town were his playground and network. A seed was planted in my head on how to go legal. If I could manage my money well enough maybe I could start a mechanic shop for Paul to run. I brought it up and Paul liked the idea but thought it was too far reaching at this point. He offered an idea of how to help us get there. He’d always imagined buying cars from auctions, fixing them up and selling them at a profit.
CHAPTER 52
That girl Natasha was nineteen and I was in lust. She was a five foot ten inch part-time lingerie model. Her Dad owned a soft nude magazine that was local to San Diego but he also had a studio in his garage in San Clemente. Natasha had blond hair and green eyes. Her bone structure around those green eyes gave her that cat woman look. The rest of her bone structure had me hypnotized. I scooped her up as my first business associate in the speed world and it was on and cracking.
I chased her around trying to get some play for almost a month before she gave me some action. It took pouring my heart out and explaining my life story before her heart melted. Even then I pretty much begged to get a taste.
I rented a decent hotel and she undressed for me in a strip tease that was exotic under lights that were a little too dim. I was so close to a virgin from not going to high school and living a normal life that I almost busted a nut before we even began. I had no idea what I was doing. I wanted to go down on her and spend all night exploring how to make her love me. Instead, she grabbed my almost exploding boner and brought me to her.
She was lying on her back with her legs in the air open for me and I felt her fit me inside of her. I thought, the harder and faster I filled her the better so I turned myself into a jackhammer. After about fifteen thrusts she saved me from the embarrassment of a premature explosion by pushing me away. She looked at me like she was disgusted with my technique and I asked her, “What? Am I doing it wrong?”
The way I said it seemed to melt her and show her I really did care. Her face went from irritated to a sexy smile. She said, “I’m not a blow up doll! I’m a woman. You’ve got to treat me like one… Not like a piece of meat!”
I took that as a green light to do what I really wanted to do. Explore her body. I went to her sexy arched feet and started massaging one. I kissed her ankle and told her, “I’ll take better care of you this time.”
I worked my way up her legs and got the feeling she wasn’t comfortable with the amount of intimacy I was shooting for. When I got to her sex I licked, sucked and darted my tongue in circles… I got pushed away again!
This time I said what was on my mind. “Natasha, I’m trying to show you how much I want your body. Can’t I go down on you and get you into it until you’re writhing against me and I can taste you?”
She gave me that irritated look, but, I could see the smile underneath it that meant I might eventually get that chance. But not this time. She grabbed me and pulled my boner back into her.
She said, “This time slowly! Listen to me breathe and feel my heartbeat.”
I did and she was right. It was way better. I was so insanely turned on. I wasn’t going to last very long, but apparently long enough. I heard her breathing turn into small gasps. I felt how hot and wet she was and kissed her softly.
When we were done I was still wired and depraved so I tried to persuade her to let me go down on her. She just held my hand and told me I was sick. I think it was the speed talking.
CHAPTER 53
I was sitting on a swivel chair in Paul’s garage spinning in circles impatiently wondering what in the hell I should be doing. It had been three weeks since I’d started using speed and I’d only slept twice, briefly. I was feeling pretty good other than that impatient feeling. Natasha was the only client I had slinging the product for me and I was making interest in my investment in Paul’s product. Money wasn’t coming in fast enough. I thought about my marijuana hustle I was neglecting. There were still people I could do business with on that end and there were still people who owed my brother and I. I felt like it was time to make something happen.
Paul, on the other hand, seemed content with the pace we were on. He was sitting at a table next to me tweaking on his new tungsten darts we used to battle each other on the dart board. I looked at Paul’s face. He looked haggard. He’d been trying to keep up with me. Since I was new to this speed thing my tolerance to it wasn’t built up yet so I was feeling relatively sharp and refreshed. I got up from my swivel chair and walked to the desk where Paul was sitting and snorted one of the lines.
I started pacing like I’d gotten into the habit of doing. It helped me think. I got the feeling it affected Paul and made him feel like he was lagging; like he couldn’t keep up. My mind focused on opening up a shop for Paul to run as a mechanic. Then I turned over his idea of buying cars from auctions and selling them. Then I thought about the fastest way to financial success. Incorporating big Bob as our personal speed cook, I decided the only way I was going to make that happen was through action. You have to shock people to make them believers.
“Paul! Does anyone owe you any
money? I’m going to go collecting on some past due accounts owed to my brother and I. Why don’t you do the same?”
I watched Paul snort his line. His crinkled face went from old and haggard… to awake and determined to keep up. He went into his wallet and started digging. He pulled out a list, then another, and then a third one. He studied the three list with a shocked look on his face. He grabbed a pen and scratched off a few that had paid and added a few he was just now remembering. He consolidated his three lists into one updated one and looked at me.
“What are some of these people thinking? Did they think they could take me for a ride?”
Paul went back to adding it all up and exclaimed, “I’m owed $1,800!”
Now that I’d lit a fire under his ass I threw my grand plan at him. “Check it out Paul. If we tighten up our program and collect all of the money we’re owed… We should be able to buy a pound of dope from Bob. You said we could turn that into about $30,000. Then all we have to do is put all of that into the ingredients to make the shit and have Bob cook it for us! Once we’re done liquidating all of that we should have enough to open up a mechanic shop for you! We wouldn’t have to run in place anymore. We wouldn’t have to buy used cars.”
I stopped talking because I could see Paul wasn’t listening. In my head it was as easy as A. B. C., or one, two three, but I couldn’t do it without some assistance! Frustrated, I told Paul, “I’ll be back in a while. I’m going to some lame’s house who thinks I’m just going to go to jail without getting paid what he owes me for my quarter pound of weed.”
ROLL CALL ~ A Prison List (True Prison Story) Page 16
