RAW dope in unexpected places (how I found it)

[dieselbaby]

I'm certain any of the other members here who religiously scope the "heroin" section will know of my plight and shitty situation concerning my needed dope supply, as I outlined in this ridiculously long post here: http://forum.opiophile.org/showthread.php?t=18920

So, my girlfriend and I were just plain fuckin' TIRED of driving so far to get our dope. The balls of tar we were copping in Columbus OH were getting smaller and smaller, of worsening quality and our connection was starting to play games with us - like telling us everything was good to go and when we got there after driving for 3.5 hours he'd only have half of what he said he would. Yeah, shit like that. His mistake, in a big way (I'll get to that later). Not only did the drive and our available product suck, but the distance was killing our car and it was just no fun in any way - the only time we really felt good was when we did a big shot right after getting it since the rest of times we'd have to conserve.

Being sick of Columbus and not wanting to go to our backup plan in Chicago anymore (where half of the west side bags would look like a bunch of "marshmallows floating in a lake" after dumping the powder into the water, not dissolving until heated like the garbage it was) we decided that it was over, that we were just going to go and find a connection close by - even if it meant getting shot or ripped off. So we set our sights on Indianapolis. Being a city of more than 1 million people, we were originally kept away from Indy by the discouragingly small amount of results that came up when googling for "heroin" + "indianapolis" or any variations of the aforementioned. But in a city so large there certainly has to be heroin - we just weren't looking in the right places or asking the right people.

So through a bit of researching we plotted out the most crime ridden neighborhoods of the city. Through my research I found that this area was an area known as "Haughville". Armed with nothing but the address of the Haughville public library we headed out on the road, a straight shot 45 minutes to Indy. We got there and started cruising around - there was a disturbing lack of people on the streets and it was starting to get dark. Didn't look like we were going to have much luck at all. Driving around the side streets we were about to cut our losses and drive the extra 3 hours north to Chicago being as we didn't want to be sick as fuck. That was until we rounded a corner, and made eye contact with Buddy.

Buddy's definitely one of the strangest people I've ever met. He refers to everyone as his "niece" or "nephew" and seemed to know everyone on the streets of Haughville, his "hood" where "you better be keepin' that heater on you, boy." A self-confessed 54 year-old crack addict who loves heroin and liquor as well, he made eye contact with both my girlfriend and I, and gave us "the nod" - it was all we needed to know that we would be getting our nod on soon. We drove around the block and came up around again to find him standing in the same spot. He approached me on the passenger side of the car as I rolled down my window and said "what's up with it?"

"Hey man, what's up with you?"
"Nothing, you know what's good with that boy?" (they refer to heroin as boy out here)
"That boy? Shit man, I know what's good with that boy!"
"Word?"
"Yeah man, can I get in the car?"

He got in the car and immediately the stink of liquor on his breath overpowered my "spring blossom" scented air freshener. His weathered black hands were clutching some kind of cheap newspaper circular and immediately he began rambling. Most of his slang drawl was indecipherable however we were able to communicate what we wanted to from what we understood he would be able to provide it for us.

We drove around and eventually came to a house where his "nephew" (apparently one of many) came into our car and told us we had to drive to a pay phone a block away so they could call a dealer to bring us what we wanted. We drove and his nephew called up a guy, and we arranged to meet him in 10 minutes.

After an hour and a half of waiting, and constant assurances from Buddy and his nephew that everything would be legit and straight we finally got our shit. It was raw as fuck, but definitely not worth the $100 we paid for it, and the $20 finder's fee we gave Buddy and his nephew. I was filled with anxiety and was going over all the ways things could go wrong - but suprisingly Buddy's nephew (who decided it was kosher to pull out a crackpipe and chief a bunch of rocks in my car while waiting without asking) didn't run away with my money - he only shorted what we were supposed to get. We were happy to get anything.

The next day when it ran out (it wasn't much at all) we decided that we weren't going to risk going through them again. We were going to try to find Buddy or someone else this time to get more, however on the way the idea struck us to call up the dealer and explain our situation. I called and pleaded and begged for him to meet with us. He was skeptical but I jumped through many hoops to show him I was legit. Thankfully, we were able to get in with their guy and now we have a connect for ridiculous shit.

The stuff from their guy the next time we picked it up was about 3 times the amount for the same price. It is some of the best dope I've ever had...I had no clue that there would be shit this raw in Indy. Better than any of the NJ dope I get at home. I'm so happy.

Anyone else got any tales of finding great shit in unexpected places?

[Dan Steely]

I live in a fairly respectable lower middle working class neighborhood in my city. I've had the same downstairs neighbors for 5 years who I was friendly with but never too close. I finally got to talking with them and it turned out that they were in the local meth program and had some excellent connects. Now instead of me cruising the hood I get the shit delivered to me, and promptly as well.

[chopstix]

Dude, nevermind the alcohol breath, do you realize that if ONE single molecule of that crack smoke were to collide with the spring fresh air-freshener, it could MORPH into a spring-fresh CRACK freshener?? Then what would you do?? Anyone that got in your car could have been seeing ghost-daisys and carpet sharking for spring flowers for days!!

Fucking close call dude, either ditch the air-freshener or step up and keep dem crackkeads outta your whip brah..

[Nu Jerzey Devil]

I'm certain any of the other members here who religiously scope the "heroin" section will know of my plight and shitty situation concerning my needed dope supply, as I outlined in this ridiculously long post here: http://forum.opiophile.org/showthread.php?t=18920

So, my girlfriend and I were just plain fuckin' TIRED of driving so far to get our dope. The balls of tar we were copping in Columbus OH were getting smaller and smaller, of worsening quality and our connection was starting to play games with us - like telling us everything was good to go and when we got there after driving for 3.5 hours he'd only have half of what he said he would. Yeah, shit like that. His mistake, in a big way (I'll get to that later). Not only did the drive and our available product suck, but the distance was killing our car and it was just no fun in any way - the only time we really felt good was when we did a big shot right after getting it since the rest of times we'd have to conserve.

Being sick of Columbus and not wanting to go to our backup plan in Chicago anymore (where half of the west side bags would look like a bunch of "marshmallows floating in a lake" after dumping the powder into the water, not dissolving until heated like the garbage it was) we decided that it was over, that we were just going to go and find a connection close by - even if it meant getting shot or ripped off. So we set our sights on Indianapolis. Being a city of more than 1 million people, we were originally kept away from Indy by the discouragingly small amount of results that came up when googling for "heroin" + "indianapolis" or any variations of the aforementioned. But in a city so large there certainly has to be heroin - we just weren't looking in the right places or asking the right people.

So through a bit of researching we plotted out the most crime ridden neighborhoods of the city. Through my research I found that this area was an area known as "Haughville". Armed with nothing but the address of the Haughville public library we headed out on the road, a straight shot 45 minutes to Indy. We got there and started cruising around - there was a disturbing lack of people on the streets and it was starting to get dark. Didn't look like we were going to have much luck at all. Driving around the side streets we were about to cut our losses and drive the extra 3 hours north to Chicago being as we didn't want to be sick as fuck. That was until we rounded a corner, and made eye contact with Buddy.

Buddy's definitely one of the strangest people I've ever met. He refers to everyone as his "niece" or "nephew" and seemed to know everyone on the streets of Haughville, his "hood" where "you better be keepin' that heater on you, boy." A self-confessed 54 year-old crack addict who loves heroin and liquor as well, he made eye contact with both my girlfriend and I, and gave us "the nod" - it was all we needed to know that we would be getting our nod on soon. We drove around the block and came up around again to find him standing in the same spot. He approached me on the passenger side of the car as I rolled down my window and said "what's up with it?"

"Hey man, what's up with you?"
"Nothing, you know what's good with that boy?" (they refer to heroin as boy out here)
"That boy? Shit man, I know what's good with that boy!"
"Word?"
"Yeah man, can I get in the car?"

He got in the car and immediately the stink of liquor on his breath overpowered my "spring blossom" scented air freshener. His weathered black hands were clutching some kind of cheap newspaper circular and immediately he began rambling. Most of his slang drawl was indecipherable however we were able to communicate what we wanted to from what we understood he would be able to provide it for us.

We drove around and eventually came to a house where his "nephew" (apparently one of many) came into our car and told us we had to drive to a pay phone a block away so they could call a dealer to bring us what we wanted. We drove and his nephew called up a guy, and we arranged to meet him in 10 minutes.

After an hour and a half of waiting, and constant assurances from Buddy and his nephew that everything would be legit and straight we finally got our shit. It was raw as fuck, but definitely not worth the $100 we paid for it, and the $20 finder's fee we gave Buddy and his nephew. I was filled with anxiety and was going over all the ways things could go wrong - but suprisingly Buddy's nephew (who decided it was kosher to pull out a crackpipe and chief a bunch of rocks in my car while waiting without asking) didn't run away with my money - he only shorted what we were supposed to get. We were happy to get anything.

The next day when it ran out (it wasn't much at all) we decided that we weren't going to risk going through them again. We were going to try to find Buddy or someone else this time to get more, however on the way the idea struck us to call up the dealer and explain our situation. I called and pleaded and begged for him to meet with us. He was skeptical but I jumped through many hoops to show him I was legit. Thankfully, we were able to get in with their guy and now we have a connect for ridiculous shit.

The stuff from their guy the next time we picked it up was about 3 times the amount for the same price. It is some of the best dope I've ever had...I had no clue that there would be shit this raw in Indy. Better than any of the NJ dope I get at home. I'm so happy.

Anyone else got any tales of finding great shit in unexpected places?

Your encounter with buddy the crackhead, sounds a lot like the one time I was out away from my home, and had to cop in a city foreign to me that seemed to be ridden with nothing else but crack. Anyway, I met this guy ( probably the exact same as buddy, atleast sounds like ) who at first was a runner from me and loved doing speedballs, asked me if I wanted to join, I said no, just get me the Dope. I did and left and fixed. Granted it was a sketchy situation, but fuck man the bottom line is I scored and the Dope was GREAT! The best I've had in that city since, and I now have a connect when I have to go there. Just goes to show.

[nycjrt]

...? Anyone that got in your car could have been seeing ghost-daisys and carpet sharking for spring flowers for days
lol @ 'carpet sharking' - never heard that particular term before, i like. i've certainly met a few 'buddys' over the years, including a gypsy in spain i for whom i bought breakfast (bottle of san miguel beer) in exchange for a connection to a fat gram and a nice piece of aluminum foil:cool: ... what amazes me about diesel's original post, and so many others i've read on here, is how far some of you have to drive to cop- sometimes i get upset about having to take the train a few extra stops, and forget the 1-hour round trip ride to newark- i can't imagine how much it must suck to have to drive 2+ hours sick(well actually i can imagine, because to avoid getting sick/get well i would do anything...) i guess i never realized how spoiled/lucky i am- despite the decline of open air dealing/bodegas/ whole blocks/neighborhoods here in new york things are still pretty good- another common theme in these posts is how many cities are still inundated with dirt-cheap crack, but there is no established dope scene- for me the two always go hand in hand.

[simfromstoke]

lol @ 'carpet sharking' - never heard that particular term before, i like. i've certainly met a few 'buddys' over the years, including a gypsy in spain i for whom i bought breakfast (bottle of san miguel beer) in exchange for a connection to a fat gram and a nice piece of aluminum foil:cool: ... what amazes me about diesel's original post, and so many others i've read on here, is how far some of you have to drive to cop- sometimes i get upset about having to take the train a few extra stops, and forget the 1-hour round trip ride to newark- i can't imagine how much it must suck to have to drive 2+ hours sick(well actually i can imagine, because to avoid getting sick/get well i would do anything...) i guess i never realized how spoiled/lucky i am- despite the decline of open air dealing/bodegas/ whole blocks/neighborhoods here in new york things are still pretty good- another common theme in these posts is how many cities are still inundated with dirt-cheap crack, but there is no established dope scene- for me the two always go hand in hand.

same over here in england. if you wanna find smack in a foreign town i always look for the crackdealers and 95% of em sell smack and if they dont, they just put you onto the next guy down the street who DOES sell smack

sometimes buying somebody a 20 stone re-pays itself 100 times over
in england where theres crack there's smack.
always has been always will...

oh and sympathy for everyone who has to travel to score..
that's gotta be the only advantage of living on a tiny over-crowded island.-you are never more than 15mins away from a score

[dieselbaby]

Yeah I consider my now shorter drive (about 45 minutes or so) to be a blessing. It's like 46 miles away and it's one road, a straight shot up there so it's not too bad compared to when I used to have to drive like 3.5 hours...and we know how bad our self control can be - sometimes not letting yourself save enough for a morning shot before you drive that day to pick up can leave you really hurting :(

[Papa Verine]

I feel sorry for the out-of-towners who have to cop dope on the west side of Chicago in the open-air markets. There's A lot of good H in Chicago... but those markets on the west side everybody is so familiar with, where it's so easy to cop, are the absolute worst places to get it. They buy the dope we're all buying and step on it real bad, then sell it to the suburban kids and outsiders.

The best "open air" dope in Chicago is on the south side of town and requires you getting out of your car. That drive-up service costs you a huge penalty in quality.

I guess it's not an issue anymore. I'm real happy to hear you got that good connect in Indy. You're the first person I've heard of who's copping good dope in Indianapolis. I always knew it was there... just didn't know anyone.

[dieselbaby]

http://img206.imageshack.us/img206/6199/fatbagorawfo0.jpg

[Angelwolf13]

oh thanks *drool*

congratulations, man! after reading and rereading your adventure, i've got to say you've got balls! no guts, no glory, i guess, lucky you!

[stephenISall]

score. nothing worse than having money and the means to get dope and not have a source. ive only had that happen a couple times in my life and one time was when i first moved to orange county. boy was that hell. i was walking down the street in costa mesa and when i saw ANY skinhead i would say "whats up with some tar?" just like that. im used to copping on the streets of chicago, i didnt care. the dude who i was with thought i was nuts. nuts huh? well within 20 minutes i found a connect and because of him (i stole his dealer) i had one of THE BEST delivery driver dealers in all of orange county. this guy became my friend and he'd actually come over and just hang out while people came over to meet him. he was NEVER dry, would always spot me. and always had powder cocaine as well as as many ounces of tar that i needed. good times, bad times.

so, nice job man. keep that connect like its yoru first born child. cause in alot of ways... it is. :)

[simfromstoke]

score. nothing worse than having money and the means to get dope and not have a source. ive only had that happen a couple times in my life and one time was when i first moved to orange county. boy was that hell. i was walking down the street in costa mesa and when i saw ANY skinhead i would say "whats up with some tar?" just like that. im used to copping on the streets of chicago, i didnt care. the dude who i was with thought i was nuts. nuts huh? well within 20 minutes i found a connect and because of him (i stole his dealer) i had one of THE BEST delivery driver dealers in all of orange county. this guy became my friend and he'd actually come over and just hang out while people came over to meet him. he was NEVER dry, would always spot me. and always had powder cocaine as well as as many ounces of tar that i needed. good times, bad times.

so, nice job man. keep that connect like its yoru first born child. cause in alot of ways... it is. :)


that particular nightmare has entered my head a couple of times
usually it only happens inbetween the time it takes me to withdraw the cash to walking into a shop to top-up my phone

and the couple of times ive had that scary thought, the weired thing is, the more money ive withdrawn, the bigger the fear of not being able to score..

then the fear is booted out of my head with reality
cash=smack
and at worst, ive had to ring a second person to score off. woo woo fucking hoo. i was scared for all of 30 seconds..
*sorry if anyone is envious. im not stopping you moving to england though...

-sim

[Narkotikon]

Not having sources is bad, but the absolute WORST is thinking you're getting dope then when you use, you realize it's fucking milk powder. That is the worst. You've given them your money for powdered milk or whatever the hell it is. That happened to me twice. I was sick, because obviously I had no more money. Fuckers. That's why I don't mess with heroin that much. I mean, I love it and all, but with having little money and no real connects except the random people on the street that you meet, whom I do not trust, once you make that purchase it's done. No more money, no more hope. I'd rather invest in something I know is going to work. I'm sure if I had more motivation to look around downtown I could get a regular connect, but I don't like the idea of doing that. I hate going down there. I'll stick to pods or something like that. It's so much easier to be an outsider and get crack in this town than it is to get heroin. I know where to go and stuff, but I swear I just do not trust the dealers. I'd rather spend a hundred on pods or pills.

[simfromstoke]

the only time some little fuck has tried to rip me off was once id been clean for a bit and i looked like a normal joe (ie not like a smackhead anymore).
i met this kid in rehab and he thought i was gonna be his meal ticket.
he tried jumping out of my car at a set of traffic lights with my money
i just left the car running and flew out after him.
i caught him within 10 seconds, launching myself at him, i dragged him to the ground.i kicked his fucking scrawny arse all over the pavement and back into the road

strangley enough, the queue of cars that had formed behind my empty car at the junction, didnt sound their horns once. walking back to the car i chuckled to myself at their gawping shocked faces.

ive never seen him in rehab since.
i think he learned a valuable life lesson that morning and something rehab will never teach you

-sim

[dieselbaby]

story

Really enjoyed your story of how that piece of shit got what he deserved. I was especially tickled by the fact that you seem like such a jovial, easygoing fellow; at least that's how I perceive you with the smiley face avatar and all.

[Narkotikon]

Good for standing up for yourself Sim. I guess that's the only way you can remedy a situation like that.

[simfromstoke]

yeah i am pretty easy going but ive lived in some of the worst hell-holes on earth. and if some little scrwny fucking kid thought he was gonna run off with 20 pound of my money.
lets just say i think he was quite shocked when happy calm sim turned into snarling fucking monster once i got hold of him..

ive lived with little dicks like that for years, and while 20 years ago i might of just sat there like a plumb, the streets soon teach you their ways. and its dog eat dog over here on the streets.
the guy was takin a fuckin liberty and deserved every last kick.

i felt no guilt whatsoever and like i said i even giggled at the dumbstruck other motorists as i walked back to the car.

like raz said and a few others..
people see kindness and generosity and assume that you are a soft-touch and they will try and take liberties
(and im not being ageist here, but its normally the younger generation who think they can have one over on you.most of the older smackheads(me incuded), just want their drugs with minimum hastle and just expect what they are paying for).

if people try taking the piss they will feel the wrath
if they just get me/sell me the drugs i am paying for, all is fine and i'll conclude my business..

i like the dumb people who think this, cuz when they cross me, the shock of when i turn normally freezes them to the spot so the first punch normally sends them backwards off their feet
if they just give me what im paying for, all is good, and i'll do business again
but woe betide any little fucker who thinks they can get a lift, and free drugs and try and jumping out of my car with MY money..

so yeah 99.9% of the time im a calm and rational person, just dont try ripping me off expecting to get away with it..

-sim

[Raz]

the only time some little fuck has tried to rip me off was once id been clean for a bit and i looked like a normal joe (ie not like a smackhead anymore).
i met this kid in rehab and he thought i was gonna be his meal ticket.
he tried jumping out of my car at a set of traffic lights with my money
i just left the car running and flew out after him.
i caught him within 10 seconds, launching myself at him, i dragged him to the ground.i kicked his fucking scrawny arse all over the pavement and back into the road

strangley enough, the queue of cars that had formed behind my empty car at the junction, didnt sound their horns once. walking back to the car i chuckled to myself at their gawping shocked faces.

ive never seen him in rehab since.
i think he learned a valuable life lesson that morning and something rehab will never teach you

-sim

Yep and the message is "DONT FUCK"....And dont take kindness for weakness, some people are just fuckin stooopid....

[dieselbaby]

Anyone else got any interesting stories of characters they have met while scoring...as I like to call them, "throwaway friends" - people who you may spend several hours or days with until your use for each other has worn out. Sometimes relationships with these people can turn into an actual friendship, but I'm sure most of you are like me and have many people in your phone who you have met through our shared "lifestyle" and knew for a short while, only to forget about and never speak to again.

[nycjrt]

i like the dumb people who think this, cuz when they cross me, the shock of when i turn normally freezesm them to the spot so the first punch normally sends them backwards off their feet
so yeah 99.9% of the time im a calm and rational person, just dont try ripping me off expecting to get away with it.
-sim
that element of surprise (i'm usually pretty mellow, well mannered/soft-spoken) has worked to my advantage several times-plus i grew up around the streets, and i may not look/act the part anymore i still have a heightened 'street-sense' - although as you well know, states/UK are very different when it comes to fighting, nowadays over here in our present police state your motor would have been ticketed, towed and impounded and you'd have been arrested by the swat team by the time you threw the second punch. off-topic, i've always wanted to visit manchester- i spent some time in ireland as a youth, been over several times since, but i've only been to london in the UK - i think manchester would me much more to my liking.
(sorry for hijacking your thread diesel- i'm trying to remember some of the more colorful 'buddy' characters i've encountered..will post later when i'm feeling even more :hangloose)

[Narkotikon]

Anyone else got any interesting stories of characters they have met while scoring...as I like to call them, "throwaway friends" - people who you may spend several hours or days with until your use for each other has worn out. Sometimes relationships with these people can turn into an actual friendship, but I'm sure most of you are like me and have many people in your phone who you have met through our shared "lifestyle" and knew for a short while, only to forget about and never speak to again.

I could tell you a horror story for all involved when I rented out my car for dope one time (BIG BIG FAT MISTAKE). But, no, I've never met anyone I'd even consider a friend. I don't like going downtown to cop because 1.) they usually see me as some fat meal ticket because I'm white, from the suburbs, and in a nice car, and 2.) if I do find a connecti, it's real dope but overpriced or very shitty and overpriced. I know there's got to be good shit here, but where? I don't know. Helps to have connections I guess, and I have none on the streets. Not sure if I want any either.

[farmpkm]

ive lived with little dicks like that for years, and while 20 years ago i might of just sat there like a plumb, the streets soon teach you their ways. and its dog eat dog over here on the streets.
the guy was takin a fuckin liberty and deserved every last kick.


unfortunately, these days you throw a punch at one of these dirty hood-rats and you get shot in the belly. times are a changin'

[losangeleslifer]

I can remember many a character, but I/we didnt need them to score as we were the "dopeman". However, we employed the always fleet-footed dope fiend (mainly crack heads that we new well) many a time to go to the store to get us beer, food, doughnuts etc. It never ceased to amaze me the speed of these dudes. A two block round trip to the liquor store would take me about 15 min. "Pinpoint" (one dudes name) could make it in 7 min, and thats taking a blast and bullshitting with another head along the way. Quick returns meant nice kick downs and folks would move like a fart in the wind for a 10 or 20. (These guys always got takin care of) 99% of those guys were on the spot. But every now and then...

There was even crackhead "muscle" for hire, if you didnt want to get your hands dirty. (good ole "Raider" and "Smitty" were kinda pricey, but your money was well spent). And of course the worlds oldest profession. (Ok, a couple of times I admit it).

I did cop black through an old veterano who would take and hour to go 2 blocks, but I couldnt complain, I couldnt even let my friends know I was copping tar, or I would have been chastised and even rolled up for indulging.(Heroin wasnt cool AT ALL amongst my circle of friends)

So, yea, most of these dudes were real cool cats, and were just trying to stay high.

[nycjrt]

i used to work as a waiter, sometimes bartender in the rapidly gentrifying east village/downtown manhattan of the early 90s- although anything you wanted could usually be found within a ten block radius of our restaurants, this was still in the days of pain - in -the -ass- beepers (cell phones were still for the big boys in 91-92) and although there were street/apartment spots, it was easiest to just send someone else- our busboy pepe, the 'dominican jumping bean' (hyperactive, even for a crackhead) loved to do runs for us- he would actually go out to cop for 'free' (tho i'm sure some of those bags were tapped harder than madonna's ass, to use a timely example) because it gave him a break from work, and he could smoke rocks while he was away from the restaurant- we usually slipped him a few $5s anyway, as well as whatever he wanted to sniff (back then it was all bumps off of keys/fists- we never laid out lines because we were so used to clubbing, plus, ya'know, we were working lol ) - the only cost came at the end of night, when we had to over-tip pepe's co-workers for taking up the slack while he was out scoring for us/getting high...everyone was a klepto in that place anyway, people did very well for themselves- i saw people pocketing everything from cash, to cooked food, to drinks (one thoughtful mom filled up an milk gallon with soda from the bar guns for her kids) . kinda ironic the owner was a rich dentist/cokehead who opened a few restaurants back then, i think just to surround himself with young waiters/waitresses and feel hip- food always sucked and surprise! none of them survived. lol end of nights ruled as we'd all have a ton of free drinks in the closed restaurant, hit whatever bars in the area were closing for more free/steeply discounted drinks and then head off to after hours absolute time of my life - altho, i still do have my moments as an old geezer now. - my only regret is that i was a real ethical cat back then and didn't believe in stealing $ unless necessary - actually, scratch that i am still proud of that;) -

[Duckfeet]

Just love hearing about NYC in the "old days..." that was such a *city* and so much that's cool or timeless or even tragic...was there...but, like you said, from the Bowery Bums to Hell's Kitchen Irish hoods...so much is gone, that even in my lifetime seemed forever...Big Money's desire to go back to cities to live, has fucked up low-rent bastions from NYC to LA skid row, to Paris to London...sigh...and now they're all just touristy condo's w/a few expensive restaurants....


i used to work as a waiter, sometimes bartender in the rapidly gentrifying east village/downtown manhattan of the early 90s- although anything you wanted could usually be found within a ten block radius of our restaurants, this was still in the days of pain - in -the -ass- beepers (cell phones were still for the big boys in 91-92) and although there were street/apartment spots, it was easiest to just send someone else- our busboy pepe, the 'dominican jumping bean' (hyperactive, even for a crackhead) loved to do runs for us- he would actually go out to cop for 'free' (tho i'm sure some of those bags were tapped harder than madonna's ass, to use a timely example) because it gave him a break from work, and he could smoke rocks while he was away from the restaurant- we usually slipped him a few $5s anyway, as well as whatever he wanted to sniff (back then it was all bumps off of keys/fists- we never laid out lines because we were so used to clubbing, plus, ya'know, we were working lol ) - the only cost came at the end of night, when we had to over-tip pepe's co-workers for taking up the slack while he was out scoring for us/getting high...everyone was a klepto in that place anyway, people did very well for themselves- i saw people pocketing everything from cash, to cooked food, to drinks (one thoughtful mom filled up an milk gallon with soda from the bar guns for her kids) . kinda ironic the owner was a rich dentist/cokehead who opened a few restaurants back then, i think just to surround himself with young waiters/waitresses and feel hip- food always sucked and surprise! none of them survived. lol end of nights ruled as we'd all have a ton of free drinks in the closed restaurant, hit whatever bars in the area were closing for more free/steeply discounted drinks and then head off to after hours absolute time of my life - altho, i still do have my moments as an old geezer now. - my only regret is that i was a real ethical cat back then and didn't believe in stealing $ unless necessary - actually, scratch that i am still proud of that;) -

[Papa Verine]

I've know some real interesting characters. One of my best friends from grade school I grew up with, we started smoking weed together, drinking, then we progressed on to acid, PCP and eventually dope. We did this progression together.

Everybody noticed right around the time we started the PCP this friend of mine got a little loopy. He started losing his mind a little. He would act erratic... we joined up with the local street gang for whites together, right around the same time. Well, this guy took it to the extreme. He moved up the ranks fast. He'd always, always have a pistol on him. One day he decideds he wants to play basketball in the park. Where we grew up the majority was black. We walk up to the park with our hats tilted far to the right and were getting some real hard looks. Just then Keith pulls out this chrome revolver in plain view of everybody, hands it to me and says "I wanna play!" So, here I'm standing on the sidelines with this heavy metal in my waistband as my friend, this short white kid runs around the basketball court for a half hour getting his ass kicked in basketball with all these "brothers".

He's not paying any attention but I sure am. All these guys who were standing on the side watchin the game, who happened to have their hats tilted in the opposite direction as ours, quietly walked away when Keith started playing basketball. They saw him hand the gun to me, everybody did. So, I'm watching them. They come back with a few more guys and they're not walking slow toward us they're moving in my direction. They know I have a gun so I'm assuming they have a gun or two now. I *knew* they did. I'm buggin' Keith to quit running around the basketball court NOW as all he was doing was getting in everybody's fuckin way anyway, and falling over and acting like an idiot. He keeps telling me "Ah, don't worry about it, just use that thing!" So, the other guys walk up to the opposite end of the basketball court. I'm standing alone on one end, watching my idiot friend, and they're standing about 10 of them on the other end. All of a sudden, the basketball players, who I didn't even notice were watching this, got nervous and basically scrambled off the court to one side. I was shitting my pants but didn't want to get shot first. It felt like a wild west showdown. I pulled the gun out and pointed it fast. Ran out there and grabbed my idiot friend, never taking the gun off the other guys as we shuffled off. I didn't end up in a shoot-out, thank God. I was trying to reason with Kieth about the situation he just put me in and he didn't give a fuck. He was just twisted... he said "man, that gun isn't even loaded! let's go get some beer". He never flinched when shit like this went down. He lost that somewhere... This was a kid who we used to beat up every day. He was short and goofy and we all picked on him in middle school. I guess he got a complex or something... wanted to grow up to be tough.

He's doing a 25 year sentence. Just a couple years left to do, for some other shit. Now he's one of those Aryan Brotherhood guys...

Just one of many people who "go bad" I guess...

[Xavier]

Speaking of crazy new york characters, anybody remember the serial killer Joel Rifkin, a anti social loner who befriended and picked up the junkie prostitutes that used to frequent 2nd avenue and houston in the les. He killed Dave Insurgent from Reagan Youths girlfriend and they found her body in the back of his truck. He think he killed something like 20 prostitutes, most of all were junkies.

[InfectedMushroom]

Thats a crazy story papa...I had something like that happen back in the day at the court down the street from me. Some dude got pissed off during a game and went over to his bag and started wavin around a gun. People tried to calm him down and no one got shot buy still, pretty crazy

[Papa Verine]

Thats a crazy story papa...I had something like that happen back in the day at the court down the street from me. Some dude got pissed off during a game and went over to his bag and started wavin around a gun. People tried to calm him down and no one got shot buy still, pretty crazy

Basketball courts can be dangerous places man.

I just looked up my buddy. He's getting out in less then a year. We'll have to get together and play some basketball...

[oxy kid]

Diesel, i love reading your stories man.

I'm still looking for "buddy" around the south down here. Lots of crack heads, no boy though. I can't even find oxy's.

Glad everything worked out good for ya.

[nycjrt]

Speaking of crazy new york characters, anybody remember the serial killer Joel Rifkin, a anti social loner who befriended and picked up the junkie prostitutes that used to frequent 2nd avenue and houston in the les. He killed Dave Insurgent from Reagan Youths girlfriend and they found her body in the back of his truck. He think he killed something like 20 prostitutes, most of all were junkies.
i remember him getting arrested i think in long island, didn't he have a body in his pickup truck or something? i never knew about the reagan youth connection though...there was so much prostitution back then 9well prolly more now- just moved online) i remember gangs of hookers would try to 'feel' you up when you were walking down the street, they were trying to take the $ from drunk dudes front pockets lol. remember MISSING FOUNDATION 'party's over' - crazy band of squatters their logo was everywhere in e. vill/les around that time

edit: i just looked joel rifkin up on wikipedia- he was caught in a pickup on li- driving with no plates- the body in the back was actually dave insurgent's girlfriend... se dope does preserve our bodies/brains, if i were on subs/alcohol/benzos i would have never remembered suh important info

[dieselbaby]

Speaking of crazy new york characters, anybody remember the serial killer Joel Rifkin, a anti social loner who befriended and picked up the junkie prostitutes that used to frequent 2nd avenue and houston in the les. He killed Dave Insurgent from Reagan Youths girlfriend and they found her body in the back of his truck. He think he killed something like 20 prostitutes, most of all were junkies.

He lived like 2 blocks away from where I grew up. He buried people in his backyard lol, I went trick or treating at his house.