Becoming a Drug Dealer After High School Seemed Like a Good Idea at the Time....

Growing up with a medical condition that caused pretty intolerable pain on a daily basis grew to my benefit after I graduated high school and started into the mad world of trying to become an adult after college. I had met the man of my dreams, a man that was 8 years older than me and still working at a record store called Coconuts in the mall. He had no goals in life, except using me to my potential. He showed me the silver lining in having a debilitating medical condition that required pain medication. Why waste all of your time using and abusing the opiate medication, when you can turn around and sell it?

The year was 2003 and it was the height of Oxycontin and Hydrocodone prescriptions. It was easy for me to get a prescription due to my scoliosis, and my x-rays did not lie, I was in serious pain. My whole body sits crooked so it was easy to persuade a doctor into feeling bad about my situation. It was also easy to convince them that I needed this ongoing medication every month in order to be a productive member of society. How much of a prescription you ask? About 180 pills per month.

My charming boyfriend at the time had had some background with selling drugs and dealing with some pretty seedy people in town that would be willing to buy my prescription pills if I was up for selling them. He made sense, I didn't actually need all 180 pills every single month. I was living paycheck-to-paycheck working a retail job while trying to make it through college. Why make my situation more difficult? It's not like I had anywhere else to go? I was always just a step away from being homeless, so I needed something to subsidize my cash flow so I could continue to have a roof over my head. Growing up in Southwest Florida was no easy task or cheap rent for anybody period, and finding a roommate? That was even more impossible. So every month I decided that I would set aside 80 pills for my medical condition and then would hustle the other 100 pills. At one point I was able to sell them for $22 per pill, when I was getting my full prescription for only $5.50. I was getting a pretty good cash flow going on but I needed just a little bit more money to be able to make sure that I wasn't just scraping by every single month. So my boyfriend came up with the next best idea, get multiple prescriptions. I can go to a pain management doctor in another County and get another prescription and pretty much doubled dip.

I set off one Friday morning leaving my hometown at 4:30 in the morning to take the 2-hour ride up to Tampa to a well-known pain management clinic that would over prescribe if you paid $80 to see the doctor. It seemed feasible and the right decision in order to make sure that I was able to keep getting double the prescription. On my way up I should have known that Karma was working against me. As I was riding in my Ford Mustang down Interstate 75 I was pulled over by a state trooper that was in an unmarked Camaro. He had told me that he clocked me going 90 miles per hour, but did not use his radar. I had wondered why my Hi-Tech cop detector had not alerted me that there was a cop behind me. It was a short stop and an expensive ticket, but all roads should have led to me just turning around and not even getting myself into this situation. But I was young, wild, and free, open to not really giving a shit about what could happen or what would happen from me getting this double prescription.

After spending the day in Tampa, I was able to get a second prescription for another $6 for 200 pills. My boyfriend met up with a guy that was willing to buy all three hundred extra pills from me, but it came with an extra headache. He did not want to pay $22 per pill and wanted them for $10 per pill. As I sat on the bed next to my boyfriend, listening to him work out a deal for my pills, I heard him tell the man on the phone, "you can have them for $15 per pill, and you can fuck my girl". I sat there and let the conversation continue as if I wasn't the girl that he was talking about. I mean, he didn't expect me to actually do anything in order to make some money? Especially having to have sex with someone in order to get them to buy my pills?

He hangs up the phone and I asked him, "what the fuck was that all about?" He came up with a grand plan of how we were going to both rob the guy and not give him the pills. He says, "here is the plan. I am going to do the exchange with him. Then I'm going to send you in to pretend you are going to fuck him. I will stop it before it happens, and I will take the pills back." In my opiate infused state it seem like a pretty foolproof plan. It seemed reasonable and I could totally pull this off. I mean it, I didn't actually have to fuck the guy. And we could resell the pills over again to someone else. Fuck that guy. He shouldn't have ever agreed to fuck me in order to buy my drugs anyway, so he was getting what he deserved.

My boyfriend and I planned to meet him at a park down the road in order to do the exchange of money and pills. I sat in the car and waited as he got out and met the guy. I crushed up and snorted an extra pill to take the edge off. He made the exchange and then came back to the car and directed me to go to the guy. I got out of the car pretty confident about what was about to go down.

The guy was standing outside of his car. I had met him a few times before hanging out at parties and he always seemed like a pretty nice guy. But now I was standing in front of him, knowing that he had no respect for me, and I wanted to get back at him for looking at me like that. Like a part of a drug deal. Like I was just an object that he could buy. As I walked over to him and his car I could feel my legs kind of wobble a little bit as the pill started to really kick into my system. I was hoping that I would not start to slur my words and it would turn into sleepy time. I hated that effect from taking too much oxy, you would just start to nod out. It was just after dusk and it was starting to get dark out so there was no one in sight at the park except for my car and his car. I walked up and leaned against his car and smiled at him saying, "hey boo".

He did not seem uncomfortable with the arrangement that I was pretty much a hired whore for the night, and slipped his arms around my waist and pulled me against him. He was a good-looking guy, not the worst looking guy in the world, so I was fine with reaching up and shoving my tongue down his throat. I could tell that my mouth was dry with cotton mouth from my pills and that I probably didn't taste of butterscotch and cotton candy like I thought I did, but more of the residue of the cigarette that I had put out before walking up to him. He then grabbed a fistful of my hair and forced me on my knees in front of him. Fuck, this was getting real all of a sudden. This guy actually thought I was going to blow him or something. Wait, where was my boyfriend? Holy fuck, I don't want to do this. He still had a handful of my hair as I was trying to reason with him not to do this in the broad open and that we should probably get into his car or something. He pulled me back up by my hair to where I was on my feet again. Thank God I had taken so many pills because I didn't even feel the pain of him yanking me around by my hair.

Finally, my boyfriend came. I heard him yell, "what the fuck!". The guy finally let go of my hair and tried to reason with my boyfriend as he was walking up to him with his fists clenched.
The guy says, "I was just playing". I heard nothing else come from my boyfriend's mouth after that. My boyfriend started to attack the guy that was buying the drugs from us. He was double his size and pushed him to the ground, then was on top of him hitting him over and over again. I just stood there and watched what was going on. It all happened so fast that I didn't even really realize that there was a fistfight going on in front of me. I was too high. My boyfriend grabbed the bag of pills out of the guy's pocket and yelled at me, "get in the fucking car!".

We get in the car and we head to the Red Roof Inn for the night. It was the disgusting hotel downtown that was cheap on rates, and could give us time to come up with what our plan of action was going to be to follow up with this guy. As we rode to the Red Roof Inn I started to nod out, playing with the Ecstasy and Euphoria of my opiates kicking into my system.

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