Sunday, January 4, 2015

When Dealing Drugs Goes Bad

Some years ago, I ran with a crowd of guys who would assist me with the distribution of small amounts of marijuana. Nothing major, just dime bags and the like. Enter guy 1 with his gf at the time - known for beating her down and being abusive. One night the gf refuses to go with him as he'd just finished her "eye makeup" for her. We all had enough, told guy 1 to get lost, not welcome 'round these parts and not to come back. Anyway, gf will not leave. Fuck it, hang at my shack for a week till you get shit straightened out. Guy 1 takes this as "loer_boykie stole mah woman," doesn't take kindly to it. Unbeknownst to any of us, guy 1 has friends, guys 2, 3, 4, etc. These guys are legitimate gangbangers, and guy 1 tells them where they can "score a shitload of weed and cash." They all show up, the girl flees, and a literal game of cat and mouse ensues. Shots actually fired, and I decided no possessions, money, or weed is worth this shit and I get the fuck outta dodge. Guy 1 is apparently psychic and knew which door I was gonna come thru, fucking trips me as I'm skedaddling. Put a fn beat-down on me that resulted in a concussion and lots of stitches, as well as a few broken ribs. Doctor said that whoever did it was trying to kill me. I never turned them in because weed and whatnot, and fortunately for me guy 1 considered the score settled. That was also my awakening to "get right."

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