stupidest drug deal

Ive never spent even 25 a gram for anything in my life and never really been ripped off too bad to even worry about the next day. Although my dealer grows his own so I have no middle man and he hooks me up everytime! I also grow some too so im pretty much covered all year round! Although.. when I first started out if my parents didnt have anything to smoke then it was usually pretty hard finding good weed for a decent price.

 

all this means is that one day you are IN for it.

i'm talking like 5000+...

 

You obviously didn't read his post thoroughly or it just didn't click haha

Worst deal was when I was trying to get a quarter of dank with Nate two christmas's ago. We got jumped and got 100$ stolen from us. Nate luckily grabbed the bag with like 5g of schwag in it though or that night REALLY would have sucked ass. I didn't look too bad the next day, but the dude popped a blood vessel in Nate's eye with the one punch he got in lol. While I on the other hand got tackled, choked out, about 15-20 or so punches to the face mostly and a couple to the back of the head, and I couldn't really do shit as I was wearing like 6 layers of clothes (literally had zero mobility) as Nate and I had just been smoking in basically sub-zero weather outside for over an hour at night haha.

Should never have trusted Nate's schwag dealer to get us dank lol

 

God that would suck! But if you've seen how bad others around you get screwed then you've got a good idea of what not to do. I just prefer not to mess with people I dont fully trust and just wait a bit longer, though that gets hard to fight sometimes.

I imagine its possible that I get busted and that would probably make me cry... maybe just torch it myself and handcuff myself to a wall beam before they can take me away so I can enjoy the fruits of my labor

 

Worst deal I have ever been involved in has to be with this guy who was hookin me up with dank for most of last year who is an alright guy, but seems kind of bi-polar. Some days he is super chill, other days he is an asshole, and I wasn't sure if it was something I was doing, or if it's just the way he is. I asked a couple other people that talk to him what they think, and apparently he is like that around them too, so it's him.

Anyhow, one day it's pretty shitty out, raining, cloudy, just a dreary day. But I wanted some greenery, so I contact this guy with a text message saying something like "yo man, wanna meet up". He replies "yea man, come down by the universities". The university area is fucking huge so those are very broad directions, but I drive down there and park at a plaza and text him again asking where to go from there. He gives me the name of an intersection "columbia and albert". I drive over there and it's busy as fuck, so this time I park at a gas station and text him again asking where to go from there. I wait about 10 minutes until my phone starts ringing. He starts asking where I am and why I didn't text him or call him now that I was in the area (which i just had done). He tells me to go back to albert street and meet him at "minute maid". I drive down the street and see "minute muffler", and assume that is what he meant so I pull in there. There are at least 8 cars here and the shop is opened so I call him again and tell him that there is no minute maid, it's minute muffler but before I can finish explaining the situation, he gets all pissed and says something like "I thought you would have been able to figure that out, I don't have time for this" and hangs up on me.

The time he hung up was about 40 minutes after the first time I texted him. Had he told me to go to minute muffler in the first place, we could have exchanged goods for cash within 15 minutes of the initial text, but he is paranoid about giving directions and talking weed on the phone. I later found out that he had been robbed the night before which is probably why he was in douchebag mode, rather than chill mode.

 

Hooked up a kid with 2 ounces for $500 through my dealer and my dealer even weighed it out for him. Trying to do the kid a favor. My dealer even let him smoke a blunt there of the bud and he got pretty blazed, because he wasn't talking just sitting there high as hell. He calls me later on in the day saying he just smoked two bowls of the bud and it did nothing and then he starts threatening me that he's going over to my dealers apartment to get his money back. I just told the kid he was acting like a dumbass and if he goes over there, he might get shot. Long story short the kid never called me back and pretty much vanished from my school. PUSS-AY

 

:/ it's how the world works.

 

you spent 50 dollars for a gram? you ripped yourself off i wouldnt pay 50 bucks for the same purple haze hendrix smoked.

 

srsly...again?

 

Back in the summer of '68 or 9 (I forget which) I was footloose, out of high school, in L.A., and still living with my parents. I'd been a stoner for a couple of years by this time, and my parents were annoyed, though used to, my habits of staying out til godnosewhen and coming home the next day, or sneaking back in at some early morning hour. One night I was out with some acid freaks from the Bay area, and took some L, and didn't show up until 4PM the next day. My things were in boxes, and my dad gave me the "responsibility" speech and sent me packing. I moved into my car, the beach, friends couches, and assorted parking lot stairwells in a sleeping bag.

Not long after this, a h.s. buddy by the name of Ron Stackler (we called him "Speedy") suggests I give him a ride to San Francisco, to rejoin his new friends up there in the Haight Ashbury area. I hook up with a runaway girl, and the three of us head up the 5 freeway to the City. That night, I almost ran off the road, falling asleep at the wheel, but this section of highway suddenly began to sparkle, and woke me up.

We got there, and stayed in an apartment that had 1)a shoot-em-up speed addict 2)a hit man named "Walker" from New Jersey 3)Speedy, the girl, and I and 4)the others. We stayed there, smoking it up and dropping L at times. I totally spaced for a whole day, on L, in a supermarket parking lot, sitting in my car looking at a blank wall across the street that was showing psychedelic movies in my head.

While there, I had some bucks, and wanted to buy some hash, and my friend Speedy suggested I go with him to make a buy, cuz he "knew some people". So he brought me to this apartment where this guy wants to sell me a ball of what he said was "opium". It was black, tar-like and he put a little in a pipe and told me to smoke it. I took a toke, and it tasted sweet, like something either perfumey or like incense. He gives me this look and says "It's good, man, right?"

Here I was, just 18, and surrounded by hardened looking guys in their late twenties or early thirties, just like they got out of jail. I said, "Yeah, man. It's really good.", gave him the 80 bucks he wanted, and left. I must have smoked at least a gram of that piece of shit before I tossed it. It wasn't anything. Didn't even get me high.

At least I'm alive today to tell it.

Nightly, up in the Haight, at that time, you could hear gunfire, often automatic.

Things were going bad there.

We left the Haight soon afterward, after the speed shooter guy "borrowed" my car, and it didn't come back for a week. At least I got it back. It died shortly after our return to L.A., with a jar of blue cap LSD to sell. I abandoned it on a side road somewhere around Will Rogers State Beach. I'll always remember that old '63 Ford Falcon, with the stick on the steering column with a clear blue plastic sparkly ball for a shift knob.

Adventures, man, adventures.

Tell you what. Most of all, I miss old Speedy. Lost track of him years ago. He introduced me to Jimi Hendrix, Dylan, always in tune with the best music. He always had good connections in the canyons of L.A.

Last time I saw him he was really burnt out looking, working in a head shop on Sunset Blvd., and I was trying to sell him some "Jesus", just after joining a hippie communal Jesus cult.

Things you do,,,

Anyway,,

 

buying bars for four bucks each

 

nice story arthur
that's my dad's name

i remember smoking "opium" too
i shoulda bought weed

 

Ah--the 60s.A friend and I hooked up with a black chick on telegraph in Berkely in '67 and she was going to get us 2 kilos for 100 bucks.She got in our car and directed us to an address not far away.She took the money and went up to the house and went around the side yard and we assumed she would enter the house,get the weed and return.We sat in the car and assumed that for about an hour. That night we learned you cannot get high on assumptions.

 

I never really deal but i9 did get a text a few weeks ago from an un known number that said "Yo anyone want a bag of weed for 60 bucks text back". i got a kick out of that

 

It wasn't stupid, it turned out quite good but, it was odd.

In the UK, most proper dealers sell 20 bags, aka 2.8 grams (roughly, sometimes more, sometimes less), and sometimes 10 bags, which are around 1.2-1.4 grams.

We were going to pick up off someone, and we met them in the street. They said they only had a 5 bag on them, now I've never seen anyone selling 5s before, but I gave them £5 for it and then they said "alright well if you can come with me I can get you the other 5", so I did, and I waited outside where they worked. A few minutes later they came out and handed me a gram bud. The total 10s was around 2 grams thanks to that bud, so it was nice.

As for the worst.. I paid £40 for 4.4g the other week. The guy was saying it'd be a quarter too. 2.6g, now that's a record for how much I've seen a bag shorted by

-Matt