THE END OF IT ALL: A short memoir.
So, the first day of school was great- at first.
As a sophmore at my university I felt myself much less inclined to be anxious, and I actually kept my head up high walking through the hallways of the place I'm gonna be calling home for (hopefully ONLY) two more years.
I see no familiar faces, but then again, with 40,000 people in attendance, I rarely do.
Today, I think to myself, is a good day.
I arrive on time to my first class, and my withdrawals aren't too bad. The teacher seems really nice, and I'm excited to continue on with my major, which is psychology.
About half way through the class I start to feel the pains and temperature changes of what I've coined as the "physical hell"- the begining, uncomfortable stages of withdrawal that I have no one to thank for but myself. I realize that I'm probably the only one in the class with this problem, and its a bit alienating, so I decide to ditch early.
I run into a friend, and he notices I'm a little off. I tell him about a deal that I have set up later in the day- after my second class. Intreged, he asks me to explain.
Since this is the internet, the most open sore of all information, I'd rather not discuss the full details of our conversation, but for this stories purpose, I must discuss at least the general outline, leaving out names and dollar amounts.
I explained to him that this was the deal that was going to pay my rent for months to come, and one that would benefit almost everyone close to me. He asked me to explain, so I told him the plan, one that I thought would come to fruition, and one that I wasn't to nervous about at the time.
Me and my colleage were going to split a sizable amount of money and drive 3 hours south in order to meet with a vendor. This sizable amount was more than I had ever dealt with, however, I was certain that the transaction would be both solid, and expedient, since I had previously done small-time deals with our supplier before hand, of course.
The deal would go as follows: We'd pick up the supplier, who would bring us to his warehouse, not to far from his home. Simple enough right?
My friend says, yeah, sounds simple enough. Call me to tell me how it goes.
So, I go to my next class- astronomy. With the deal on my mind, and withdrawal kicking in, my anxiety led me out of the room early once again.
I get a call from my colleage, who explains to me that his half of the money is borrowed from a close friend of his. Then, I thought nothing of this. However, this was a key point that would later come and stab me right in the kneck.
I pick up my colleage, and off we go. The drive wasn't too bad since we fixed up before hand, and I controlled the tunes.
You know, the usual: black lips, buzzcocks, rudimentary peni, air, animal collective, can, and atlas sound.
When we finally get there, the supplier is waiting.
We go to his warehouse, and he wants the money up front.
No way in hell was it going down like that.
So, I convince him that It'd be better for me to come in with him.
Once inside I got really anxious, and not because they were mexicans, because white thugs are just as bad, but because they accused me of bringing fake money.
I know the supplier and his accomplices have guns, so I wasn't trying to push any buttons when I said, "Would you like me to go buy an indicator, and we'll swipe the money to make sure its real?"
The supplier's accomplice then called down, and informed me that the warehouse was to "sketchy", so we'd be completing the transaction elsewhere.
At this point, I honestly thought about taking the assets back and jetting in the car, but at this point that could have gotten me killed, not to mention my colleage and associate would have been pretty pissed off for the wasted drive.
So, in the moment of confusion, I decided to go with the supplier to another location, not to far from the first.
Once we get there, he informs me that I cannot go in with him, since it is not his humble home, but that of a friend. I reluctantly hand him the money as he assures me he would like to continue buisness for years to come.
At this point me and my colleages are anxious as we watch him enter the home, and even more so as we see the red charger with 22'' rims that was parked at the warehouse drive passed us...
why would that car come to the meeting place?
The answer was simple- to pick up our contact and steal the assets.
My colleage did not want to believe that we had lost all of the money, so we called our contact until he answered, and gave us a fairly logical explanation:
The Charger came to drop off the actual supplier, so that he and my connection could do the transaction at a remote location, ie, where we were parked.
At first, I almost bought it, but after 45 minutes of waiting and excuses we decided to check back at the warehouse.
There were no longer cars outside, and all the lights were off.
It became evident that the deal had gone sour, so I decided to cut our losses and head back north and call it a night.
It was then I decided to give up this crummy double life I'd been leading, but of course, decisions like that never come easy.
We wrote down his address before we left...and that is to be continued.
So, today, my colleage calls me crying, and says that the money he borrowed is from a dangerous person, and that person is going to blow his brains out.
I immediately went to his house, and we schedueled a meeting with this dangerous person.
I felt oddly apathetic to the whole situation while my colleage cryed his brains out about how the failed deal ruined his life.
When we get to the meeting spot, a gold cadillac pulls up, and two fairly large, muscular latinos exit both doors and rush towards ours:
WE'RE GOING TO YOUR HOUSE GET THE FUCK IN THE CAR AND DRIVE.
So, rolling my eyes at the whole situation, and wishing I wasn't such a good friend, I reluctantly drive these lunatic thugs to my house, were they begin to threaten me over lost money.
Honestly, it wasn't really my buisness. My colleage lost their money, because he borrowed it. However, he got me in this situation, and with guns involved, I really wasn't up for any more bullshit.
So, when I saw that the conversation was going nowhere, I decided to just say fuck it, and let my colleage borrow the 500$ that he owed to the thugs.
At this point the thugs think that I'm going to call the cops. But I never planned to. In fact, I still hate cops more than I hate any of the fuckers involved in this dangerous trade. But they didn't believe me,
So one of the guys follows me to my car and makes sure I'm not using my cell phone, while the other one keeps guard at my apartment to make sure my colleage and girlfriend can't get away.
I drive with this fucking guy watching my every move, but somehow, I wasn't nervous and I didn't really care at the moment. I whistled and smiled as the thug tried to make small talk with me, and i just ignored it and told him that I just wanted them to get the fuck out of my life as soon as possible.
So, I go to the atm, pull out the money, and the fuckers finally leave.
I look my colleage square in the face as he's thanking me for saving his life, and I say,
You better fucking pay me back, that money is for my tuition goddamnit.
All day after the incident I was biting my nails, but I didn't turn to drugs. I hate opiates now. All I can think about when I think of oxy's is the scum and betrayal that comes with being a part of the underground, and I can't stand it.
I know that if he doesn't pay me back willingly, I'll still get the money. I know where he lives so its not a problem.
Its just ironic that even after all this, and even after me staying clean, I'm probably gonna have to be a thug just like everyone else in order to get my money back.
The cycle is an endless one, and I'm going to be so relieved when my money is back in my bank, and i'm out of the crummy scum fucking underground that I held so dear.
Its been a journey, and with this epic fall, I feel like I can finally begin to live a life no longer plauged by secrecy, corruption and lies.
thanks for reading,
unity peace and solidarity.