Never Judge a Book (or a drug dealer) By Its Cover

*This story may or may not be true and names may or may not be changed*

Many years ago I wasn’t the well adjusted, productive member of society I am today. I’m not saying I had a drug problem, I just really really liked them. Starting with LSD and cheep speed when I was 16 to 17, then from about 18 or 19 till I was around 29 and my first son was born I took cocaine, lots of cocaine and hundreds of ecstacy pills. At my worst I’d buy an ounce of coke and go through it in three days, staying up for most of it and using the pills to help me sleep.

I remember my first time taking coke. We were all on a bus going into the city to go to a nightclub and my mate asked if I wanted a couple of lines…..of course I did. We get to the club and I’m feeling like Superman. Walking through this place and all these hot girls are smiling and nodding at me. I’m like HOLY FUCKING SHIT this stuff is amazing. I was a very self conscious, skinny, geeky motherfucker back then remember. I walk to the toilet and take a piss and I’m washing my hands I look in the mirror and I have white powder all around my nose…… well I guess that makes a bit more sense then. After that night though, I got coke whenever I could.

A few years down the line and you pick up some connections, you know people who know people. One of these people was a guy we will call ‘D’. I’d known D since he was a young teenager but recently he’d been getting product delivered from Glasgow. He’d eventually get to the point where he was getting a kilo or half a kilo of cocaine brought up and maybe a thousand pills. He’d sell me pills for £80 for 100 which was good considering they were still going for £3 – £5 in the clubs. D was really reliable, you could phone him anytime during the week, night or day and he’d try to sort you out. He was also really paranoid, like if we were driving and he was in the passenger seat and he saw a police car coming the other way, he immediately cover his face and slide down the seat, even if he had nothing on him. I’m like, what the fuck are you doing?

“Sorry can’t help it”.

He also used to phone…. a lot.

“The package is on route”, OK pal, thanks.

Half hour later phones again “It will be here in an hour”, OK bye.

Little while later “I’ll phone you in twenty minute”, How about you phone me when the fucking stuff is here??

Half hour later “The Eagle has land, repeat the Eagle has land”

Shit like that for real.

Another time he phones me and tells me I have to get rid of my phone and SIM card. The courier had disappeared and no one knew where he was and ‘management’ were panicking a bit, assuming he had been arrest. I wasn’t getting rid of my phone, this had nothing to do with me I was just a consumer. Anyway dude turned up late, he’d fallen asleep in a McDonald’s on the road.

So as paranoid as he was, which isn’t really a bad thing considering, he didn’t like having anything on him more than he needed to.

One Thursday or Friday afternoon he phones me, needs me to pick him up. The delivery guy would come up on a bus, drop off the goods and spend the night at local hotel and go home next morning. I was working but I snuck out, still not sure how I got away with that. So I picked up D then picked up another customer. I think he was taking 100 pills. I think I was getting a quarter of coke and 200 pills or something like that. Anyway we meet the guy off the bus, get the stuff and drop him off where he wanted to go. Then we sorted out the stuff, I got mine and the other guy got his. Then D says we have one more guy to meet. Guy wanted some pills and D wanted to get it done as soon as. So we go to a place to meet the guy, it was a graveyard carpark. It was pretty empty the only other car there was a really old couple. She had a grey hair in a bun and was actually knitting and the man looked like something out of ‘Still Game’, flat cap n white moustache and all. So we phone the guy we’re meeting,

Where you at?

“I’m here, where you at?”

We’re here in a red Astra.

Then I see this young guy getting out of the old peoples car and run over and jumps in the back. I’m totally dumbfounded at this. I look round at him and say, what the fuck? Are they your grandparents?

‘Who?… Oh them, no they are Crack dealers. They’re asking if you want anything’

I was fucking flabbergasted,

No pal we’re good.

He grabs the pills and goes back n they drove off.

You see lots of shit and come across all kinds of people. I’ve met little, quiet guys who you know are dangerous. I’ve met big loud pricks who you know are pussy cats. That was the first time I ever saw pensioner crack dealers. BEST. DISGUISE. EVER.

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