|>> || 1570006408417.jpg -(178260B / 174.08KB, 810x1080) Thumbnail displayed, click image for full size. We arrived at the McDonald's, which was about twenty minutes from the house. |
When hearing the contact over the phone several hours previously, I made an aside to my companion, "This kid sounds like he's 14!"
Upon meeting the individual, I could tell that my jest was not very far from the truth. Pulling into a parking space, my companion remarked, "We could rob his ass bro. This kid's not bout it!"
It wasn't my show to run, so I laughed. If my... attorney... in the passenger seat wanted to victimize the kid, I wasn't going to be able to stop whatever might happen.
We parked. The kid clambered into my vehicle's back seat, behind my attorney. I noticed the kid was already robbed of his legroom by my attorney's wide, perhaps imposing, frame. After enough street-wise formalities had been exchanged, the kid says to us, "...so... You got the stuff?"
My attorney produced a translucent bag containing convincingly counterfeit S903 Xanax pills. Hulks. Beans. A bogus bag of Bruce Banner beans. In turn, the kid revealed a bottle of generic hydrocodone, freshly picked from the eager maw of his mother's nightstand. I impassively observed the previously agreed upon transaction take place. I pondered why the young man was forgoing an opiate high for a subjectively lower quality benzodiazepine high.
After the exchange, the kid, already obviously and extremely intoxicated on some sort of depressant, produced a cloth containing a small amount of cocaine, and offered my attorney and I a key bump. While my attorney declined, I, being an avid enthusiast for almost all classes and categories of drugs, I eagerly accepted, and scooped myself a generous little heap on the end of my house key, the youngster mimicking my actions moments after. After a couple repetitions, not wanting to blow all the kids blow, I bid him on his way to stumble off into the night.
My companion and I embarked. His next "client" was holding a sizable amount of Adderall IR, and owed my attorney several hundred dollars for the layaway purchase of a small .380 handgun. Unlike the previous client, our next destination was home to a man very much "about it." An MS13 gang member in and out of jail, with a need for under-the-table firearms, is someone very much about that life. Sometimes... Often, even, I reflect on to what degree I am about that life. I am not a kid: wading through the dangerous quagmire of selling, purchasing, and consuming illicit drugs. Nor am I a gangbanger: angry, lawless, with something to prove. No, who I am dwells in between.
I did some coke and some adderall shit is pretty lit bws
Indeterminate amount of coke up the nose and 40mg amphetamine salts, 20mg nasal and 20mg oral, boutta redose too bitch