Confessions of a Weed Dealer
"Confessions..." is an on-going column where we invite readers to submit their most outrageous personal stories anonymously for everyone to read. These stories are real, and usually come from people who lead double lives. Due to the nature of the subject matter, all identities are kept anonymous to protect the person's job, and normal day-to-day life. Click Here for more Confessions stories.
My name is *****, and I have sold weed for a living. You are about to read about my experience in an out of the business.
When I was 16 years old, weed was introduced into my life. It first came in the form of a small pleasant joint on a Tuesday morning, 15 minutes before first period. I admit, I did fall in love with the high. The warm euphoric sensation, the giggles, the munchies and the carefree relaxed mood it set. It was all fun and probably the best time of my life. Still, the pleasantries of getting high soon began to dull me and the idea of making money of what everyone seemed to be in love with was more appealing. Now weed has been referred as a gateway drug, a substance that will lead you into harder drugs or even worse, become the dealer of drugs.
If you want raw honesty, weed had nothing to do with it; the world of drugs, and everything that came with it had fascinated me at an early age. To put it lightly, it did become apparent to me at an early age that my choices, interests and thoughts were not normal. I did try to ignore the eagerness to involve myself in the world of drugs, but due to a lack of funds and my growing fascination, ignoring was just not an option anymore.
My next course of action was to get an ounce on credit to flip; I would then pay back my dude and go home with some extra cash. What I didn’t expect was to fail miserably my first attempt as a dealer. Not only did I not make any cash, but I also ended up owing my guy 20 bucks. To add insult to injury, my guy told me to never get into selling again. A successful path with drugs seemed bleak at that point, I didn’t think I had what it took so I backed out gracefully and for a time convinced myself it was just a phase. Nonetheless, the transaction, the secrecy and the act of committing a crime had not only sparked a thrill, but it made me feel alive.
I was 18 years old. I didn’t care about finding a purpose in life or self-fulfillment from work. Working a legal job from 9 to 5 for minimum wage seemed pointless. The mundane tasks wore me down and brought me mental exhaustion. The only two satisfactions I had were a paycheck and the occasional chance to fuck a pretty employee. Money had become the main influence in my life, so it was logical for me to focus my attention on more profitable drugs. Being part of the drug trafficking business became an opportunity again, and I did not spare a moment of hesitation.
In comparison to my first attempt, the second one had gone much more smoothly. I did have a small financial success as well as an increase in “popularity”. The pace my life had taken was so intense, that it became overwhelming, and confusing for me at times. I had more money then I could spend, but for someone at that age, I also had less real friends around me as a result. The decisions I made began to make the people around me distance themselves away from me, and the only “friends” I had around me were the ones who wanted to stay because of the drugs, and as I soon learned the hard way, those are the ones you want nothing to do with. The lack of a genuine connection with anyone led me to spend time with shitty friends, and girls who only wanted to be with the guy who had all the drugs. People perceived me as some drug dealer they would see in a movie, and it was inevitable that in return, I would just see them as customers.
I began to develop into someone who could not consider the misfortune of others. This allowed me to cheat, manipulate, and use people to my advantage. It tapped into my hatred, and my lack of trust for people, which led me to indulge my nose to my hearts desire on many occasions. Not to sound poetic, but one day, I looked in the mirror and I couldn’t recognize who was staring back at me. My skin tone was pale, my hair was a mess and I couldn’t help but notice my dramatic loss in weight. The drugs had really taken its toll on my body. My mind was unstable, depression had hit me hard, and paranoia was probably the most consistent thing in my life. It just wasn’t a healthy environment for me to be in anymore. From one day to the next, I packed my bags, left my home and restarted my life.
When I left I was on my own, so I didn’t go far. I went somewhere far enough where no one knew my name. My decisions had not worked for me the first time. All I had to show from my previous endeavours was withdrawal symptoms and enough money to survive for a couple months. Not knowing a single person in this new city gave me a lot of time to think. Quitting drugs had made me realize that I had not been in control of the drugs, but rather the drugs had control over me. This time I wanted different outcomes, so I let go of drug dealing and I began searching for a legal job.
It probably wasn’t the best pass time, but I got a kick out of watching dealers do their business. It kept me amused, and it provided me with a sense of nostalgia that nothing else could seem to fill. Those who’ve played the game know the game. I might have been out, but I could still see the dealers a mile away. I could have avoided it, but most dealers are not fucking subtle at all. So it was very hard not notice the car transactions, hand transactions and corner boys on every block. Most dealers never make the effort to not make it look like a drug deal; this is because they fail to understand that someone is always watching. When a dealer goes to a window, tosses the bag in, and grabs the cash in a 2 second span, that’s what you call sloppy, lazy work. Be smart. Jump in the car and drive down a couple roads. If you meet him on foot, go for a walk to a bench, or a park, maybe even a bus booth. If you’re in a very busy area, then go to the nearest public bathroom and do the switcheroo in the stalls. It’s simple, act completely normal and people will think you are completely normal.
There’s always avoiding the risk completely by not conducting business on the streets. Smart pushers could instead take the time to deliver the product right to your door. There’s nothing easy, or quick about this lifestyle. This life has a lot of legwork and planning. The problem with that is most dummies think that drugs means easy money. Were the dealers I saw amateur wannabes? Yes. Had I done the same mistakes? Yes. I constantly reminded of my mistakes and what I could of done instead. I started to take steps in re-creating myself such as changing my style of clothes, dropping the ghetto slang and educating myself without using the academic approach. It may seem premeditated although at the time, I was just trying to figure life out, which we all do during our own developments. What I didn’t grasp was that I had created a persona that everyone perceived as an average Joe. It came with being polite and having manners, but I always had a good concept of common courtesy so that wasn’t hard or forced.
While there was no intention to get involved again, I was slowly learning, and improving upon how to be a better businessman in the illegal world.
I got lucky and landed a full time job with an alright salary. In time, I worked up the ladder, became very dedicated to the job, and practically became the perfect employee. The problem with legal jobs is that the administration will always see, and treat you like a number. I value myself way too much for that kind of lifestyle. It’s not that my time is worth more, or that a legal job is beneath me, I just don’t feel comfortable feeling replaceable, or being reliant over paychecks in exchange for trading off hours of my life. But regardless of this train of thought, I was devoted and my motivation came from the fear of slipping back to who I used to be. By trying to be someone I wasn’t, I became blind to the fact that my drive was considered a threat toward certain managers. They made it difficult for me to further my career. At one point they only provided me with just enough hours to pay my rent. I felt defeated, but still very dependent over my salary. I felt trapped and I had enough.
There was a fear or repeating the same mistakes, but I was very confident that this time around things would be very different. My new appreciation for the industry and the freedom it gave me allowed me to see a bigger picture. In the alcohol prohibition era, the mafia families started working together which lead to the birth of organized crime. They understood that working in a collective rather than a one man show meant winning altogether while having each others back. I took a page out of their book and began seeking individuals who worked within the same industry as me and shared similar interests. Many times I found myself at square one, but eventually, everything fell into place. What makes us a reliable team is that we abide by certain rules that separate our work lives from our personal lives. We conduct monthly meetings to go over client feedback and internal issues, if there are any. The city in which we work has a huge student population. To take advantage of this we spread out across the city and hit major universities, colleges and high schools. To properly cater to the market we have full time availability and we try to ensure high quality for standard prices.
Time to time there are obstacles that we have to overcome, such as laziness, disloyalty, pride and greed. But these unfavourable characteristics stick out like a sore thumb and are quickly dealt with. Working in a small circle will allow you to keep an eye on everyone. This doesn’t mean assume your fellow colleagues will quickly backstab you, it just means that in this industry people’s loyalties are based off business. To avoid betrayal, it’s important to share the wealth, be fair and never ask someone to do something you are not willing to do yourself. There are bigger organizations with territory and I do admit this is a worry. But if you ever want to defeat your enemy, become friends with them. Violence attracts unfavourable attention and should always be your last option. This isn’t a breaking bad series, this is a business and the smart successful businessmen treat it like one. However, the unfortunate truth is that there will be stupid people that will try to take what you have, so there have been times where violence was the only option. If at that point you don’t use force, other competitors will see that as weakness and will eat you up.
When it comes to dealing with these kinds of problems and avoiding risk of anything tracing back to you, out-source muscle and let then go to a restaurant for your alibi. Never get your hands dirty, stick up kids are more than happy to do it for you. A lot of people think that in this industry the biggest problem is the police, but it’s really not, in fact, my major worry is human stupidity. In this day in age people openly talk about drugs on text messages and phone calls, not to mention social networking sites. For me, that’s a short-term business plan because conducting yourself that way makes it easier for the cops to catch you. What’s best is to not using technology for drug transaction, no phones or computers, just talking in person. Of course people have to get in contact with you to get what they need, so, you just tell them to simply ask on the phone or computer, to go for a coffee or a walk in the park. This makes more sense and helps both parties to avoid risk. But, continuously repeating that to your fellow co-workers can be very draining, not to mention explaining how to avoid risk to over a thousand clients.
If I had to give two pieces of advice for anyone that’s in the industry, it would be this. One, have a small group of friends that are neither your clients nor co-workers. Being a full time businessman will drain you, so to keep you leveled, its important to being a regular person sometimes. Two, showing a humane side can be very dangerous and will leave you vulnerable to the wrong person. So make sure the friends you choose have earned the better part of you. The sad truth is that the people that can hurt you the most are your friends, only for the simple fact that they know how to. So be very careful with friends.
In the morning, I Jump out of bed, eat breakfast and go to my legal part-time job. After work I watch TV, indulge in some joints and eat a nice big meal. I sometimes chill with friends; I sometimes just enjoy being alone. But what I’m getting at is that it’s usually like this everyday. The only small difference is I take a lot of calls a day and I use 3-sim cards on one phone. It’s not a breaking bad or weeds series where I have to deal with cartels and hide dead people in buckets. Anyone who thinks so should stop watching so much TV.
See the other entries in our confessions series :
- Confessions of a Tinderella
- Confessions of a Guy with a Big Cock
- Confessions of a Hitch Hiker
- Confessions of the Incarcerated
- Confessions of a Gay Escort
- Confessions of a Sugarbaby
- Confessions of a Craigslist Whore
- Confessions of a Cam Girl
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