Why You Shouldn’t Hang Out With Drug Dealers
This writer learns the hard way why you shouldn’t be spending time with dealers.
Several years ago, I used to have a friend. Let’s call him T.
My friends and I always used to hang out at his house. The boys would gather there, usually playing video games. Sometimes, I’d join in the games too. Bongs and pipes would always be around.. For some reason, T had a never-ending supply of weed and I loved him for being so…generous, and an all-around nice person.
Starting Out Small
How can you hate a friend for always having pot on them? You just can’t. Especially when they are so willing to share! After all, a friend with weed is a friend indeed, right? T never seemed to leave his house yet he always had a huge stash.
Marijuana was accepted in his household. Dare I say, loved even. His mom smoked it, his sister smoked it, pretty sure even his dog smoked it. Hash, kush, bud… name it, he had it. I once even saw several huge blocks of hash outside his door. Eventually it all made sense as I learned that our friends would buy pot from him on a regular basis.
He was a dealer, alright.
But I didn’t think much of it because he was my friend first before I began buying pot from him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen T when he wasn’t high on some kind of drug (more on that later). He smoked so much and he was definitely the biggest pothead we all knew.
Other “substances”
One morning, four of us decided to head out of town for the weekend. T offered to use his car and family chauffeur. The minute we left the city, we started hotboxing the car without caring much about his driver. The car was up in smoke: thick white clouds from our blunts filled it up and we loved it. We always assumed that his driver was so accustomed to the buzz that it wouldn’t affect his driving but boy we were wrong: after half an hour, we got into an accident.
His driver’s sense of coordination slowed down from the hot box and he didn’t step on the brakes in time. Driving is one of the things you should never do when smoking weed.
Thankfully, none of us were hurt. The only thing damaged were his bumpers and since it was an SUV, it was able to take a good beating without affecting the passengers. Needless to say we all lost our buzz as we realized what had just happened.
After assessing the damage, we decided to turn around, drop the car at his house and change vehicles. We made his driver sober up by eating and drinking, and decided not to let this dampen our weekend plans. We waited for T in his living room while he was at his mom’s room explaining what happened.
Long story short, we made it to the beach, continued to light up and have beers. After lunch, T collapsed and we couldn’t get him up. His girlfriend told us that his mom gave him so many pills to help him calm down from the accident. I didn’t know that he combined a number of pills with pot and booze. One man down. How can his mother have no qualms giving him more drugs, knowing that he always tokes? It began to dawn on me that on top of pot, his family was also completely OK with just getting really fucked up in general.
Enter The Chemical World
A few years after that,, I eventually tried cocaine for the first time. We were at a house party hosted by a common friend of me and T’s. People were dressed up to the nines, fancy, snorting lines of coke in the bathroom. It didn’t really bother me since I was aware that our friends were taking harder drugs on a regular basis including T.
Later that evening, the host served me with a bump of coke at the edge of a keychain. He said, “Give it a try, are you ready?” I gave in and really enjoyed it, but not enough to be addicted. That was that, and I didn’t take coke again for another few months. Eventually I learned that T was not only taking pot AND cocaine on a regular basis, but he was also dealing coke.
About 2 years after the cocaine, then I began experimenting with ecstasy. I was in university and I was careless, having fun and taking E once a month with friends. It all felt harmless back then. But when I began taking E with friends, I soon learned that some of the best stuff came from T. In fact I was able to score some good stuff from him a few times.
By this time I had accepted that T was a full-on dealer, but like I said, he was my friend and that didn’t really bother me much. Besides, I always considered him to be smart about his “business” and that he wouldn’t get caught.
Or so I thought.
Little did I know that the local DEA already had their eyes on T. The heat was on him for quite some time already, but they were just waiting for the right moment to catch him because he rarely ever left his home in a posh gated subdivision with heavy security.
One of our friends planned an out of town trip and I decided to go in the last minute. I asked T if I could hitch a ride with him from the city and he said yes. We were supposed to leave mid-afternoon of Saturday, but he wasn’t replying to any of my messages or calls, which was weird.
Then one of our friends calls me to tell me he was going to pick me up instead, so off we went.
When I got into the car, my friend told me that T had just been caught in a drug bust by the DEA.
I got cold sweats and my heart raced when I heard how it happened. After all, I was ONLY supposed to be in the same car as T when it happened.
The DEA made their way into the subdivision and parked 2 cars outside T’s house, awaiting his arrival. When T drove into his street and saw the cars, he sped off, and this led to the cops chasing after him. Since he didn’t want to slow down, the other cop fired a gunshot to his windshield, but thankfully he didn’t get hurt because his car was bullet-resistant. It all sounds like a movie, but yes this happened.
He eventually had to surrender to the DEA. His drug-selling ways got him into serious trouble. T went to jail for 4 long years. The DEA was proud of catching what they considered to be a “big fish”, since T did have a massive amount of drugs on him. It was on the news and while it breaks my heart to see that happen to a friend of mine, I knew that it was for my own good that I stop hanging out with drug dealers ever again. After all, I could have been in a huge mess, or even dead, if I happened to be in the same car the day that he got caught.
Friends, listen: if you suspect that one of your friends deals, stay away. I learned this the hard way. About 2 years ago I discovered that a friend of mine began dealing, needless to say I’ve stayed away from him too. An innocent hang out session can easily turn into a major drug bust, and you’d be caught in the middle.
Be safe and smart: Grow your own or buy pot from dispensaries!
