Tablets, tablets, I know a little about tablets. You know when I made a decision to sell heroin back then, I had no idea of where it would take me although I knew of three places that immediately came to mind. Prison was the one that I gave the most thought to, I had never been and before you go in your mind is somehow aware that prison is not the place to be. I really must have been desperate for something because jail scares me, yet I decided I was going to sell this brown powder. Another prominent thought was the idea of being kidnapped with violence, and then there was the thought of being robbed. One place I never expected to be was in some of the homes I found myself in and more so meet the people in those houses. I think I had a preconceived notion of what it would be like and sometime is was exactly that, but a lot of the people you meet are characters that leave you astonished and surprised and sad really. Hey I met some of the slimiest characters, I can see them now in my head but also I met characters that I would never have believed were taking drugs. I would find myself wondering how they make their money to pay for their habit. There was a famous bass player from a major group from Manchester, who by the way never came back when he owed for a tenth of gear. I remember his girlfriend arguing with me at her front door before he showed himself acting all sheepish and stuff. Some people are like that in that they will not pay until they really have to. Opposite from me who has to pay straight away if I owe money out, its just how I am.
It is not easy to find trustworthy people in the business but if you stay in it long enough you will come across people you can trust. I got to know many working girls, prostitutes, and most had a sad story to tell. I have smoked with girls all night, many times. They would come to my house in the night and ask to sit in and have a smoke. It was easier and better than the alternative of using a public phonebox. They travelled to my area for the 24 hour drug spot not far from my old house. They may just be in and out in half an hour or they may have made a good raise, and sat and smoked all night. We would talk and I came to know each girl. I never made a move as that is not my style, that is why they always came back, they felt comfortable. I was curious as I am about most users, for some reason I ask a lot of questions, or used to do anyway. You can learn a lot about a person, watching and observing. Most people would get an opportunity with myself but, guaranteed, only one chance do I accept. One girl, I allowed to wear a jacket and that was the last I saw her at my house. The word was passed on without success and then one night while scoring I bumped in to her. Imagine her surprise but it was bound to happen some time, anyway I asked her about the jacket and listened to her excuses, she probably left it somewhere or gave it away, I just told her “your loss” she knew not to come to my door again. I see her and walk on, I might even nod in her direction at times. One chance, Different characters that amaze you with their decisions. He would meet me every evening without fail, when we met he spent just under a hundred mostly. That is a person that caused me to think on his life. Each night he sits with a pretty girl, his girlfriend and smokes the night. He raises around ten and may get a bag to give him a boost or he might have some from the night before. Jumps In the car and heads to various city centres around the North West, his girl by his side. He was an opportunist thief and would walk around till he decided on his move. Not like clothes, he could walk out of a store with a TV or a microwave, for example. Each night like clockwork I met him and he had a bundle of notes after selling his stolen goods and would buy substantial. He was a favourite of mine because he spent a lot, always had the full money, never asked for credit and was eager to do a deal quickly and quietly and be on his way. Those times I was only reloading a quarter ounce each time so after seeing him I was usually about to reload, happy is the word for me. So this went on for say three weeks, let me put in that a day is usually so busy and varied that losing track of weeks to days becomes normal. A three week period is long, so he phones on a Sunday morning, the sun was shining and I had had a good night, not that it makes a difference to how I deal with him. He needed one bag so that he could function, that’s is how gear is, I was meeting him half an hour later. On my way I was thinking that he must need more as he usually buys a lot. I decided to give him two on tick till he got paid later that night. You can guess what comes next, but I would have told him that he can have those two bags, just score from me everyday. That never happened because I never saw him again. A few years after that incident I read in our local paper that he was sentenced to life for stabbing a person to death. Why would you run away for twenty quid? He must have known that I would give him credit anytime. I was freaked out for a few days trying to understand any logic to the situation. I look back now and I smile because nothing surprises me, I have had so many situations, a single day could see a person going through so many mental and physical situations, one after an other. Nothing surprises me is not totally true as when I read blogs, poetry I can still be surprised and inspired, I love words. That business actually became all consuming, I could never switch off totally. Every night I would be juggling numbers in my head, some time it took sleep before I could stop. My own gear habit meant I really ended up in houses and situations that as a dealer I would never have been in, and I met even more people. There would be a time you may be in a house smoking, scoring, borrowing hustling whatever, and meet a character that became relevant in your life for a few weeks then never see that person again. Some smokers have stuff in common and may team up to get cash and score together. A common occurrence really, I met people that helped me, I can not forget one person in particular. Throughout my habit it was imperative to have minimum one bag a day. That meant having ten pound every day. 365 days of the year, for, in my case ten eleven years. There were a few times when I had quit for small periods of time but it took ten to quit, so far. Luckily I only remember two days that I was out of luck. One though had me ill, with every avenue explored, my misery began to engulf me. Mid afternoon, in pain, suffering, mind making things worse knowing it was only going to get worse. Curled up in a ball, rocking, sweating, smelling, swearing, crying. Snap out of it and stand up, “I have got to do something” No preparation walking out the front door to the end of the street. I know that walk, a woman strode across the square, I approached, before I had chance to speak she saw, I asked, she let me know she is on the way to pick up a teenth. She assured me that I was good, ten mins tops. I asked to go with, scared she wouldn’t come back, I was assured she would be back hastily. In the house holding the wall to stay up, stood peeping through the net curtains heart beating, pleading to the Lord. How my mood changed when my eyes saw her striding toward the front door. Straight to the kitchen she wasted no time whacking out about fifteen pounds worth, more than enough I told her. Back out the door she scolded me and told me to see her if I was ever in the same fix. I could have kissed her. I did not know her that well, although I had smoked in her house a few times. If somebody gives you something in the business they let you know about it all the time and they have a day they need it back, cool. She never said I owed her, it was given, plus she only brought it up once and she needn’t have, I was already in pocket. She needed a tenner but I only had five but gave it anyway, maybe a year on, on my old street. She died early this year, I posted an R.I.P, on WP, 2015. Many many characters.