From: pez@manhattan.com (Gizmo) Subject: The Adventuers Of Smacks Past Part 4 (Tis Better To Switch Than Pay?) Date: 1996/09/20 newsgroups: alt.drugs.hard I've been promising that I would post a tale that would highlight the more sordid side of heroin addiction. Well, this gets a little closer to it, although I think it still has more the feel of adventure. Anyway, here goes. ############################################## Well, even though the header is, memories of smacks past, this is a Cocaine story. It happened while being strung out on smack, but hey, it's all part of the play anyway. The year was 1977 or 78. I was living with my ex-wife at the time and together we were both on a run for the past year or so. In addition to coping dope, we occassionaly liked to add coke to the mix. The Fort Washington part of upper Manhattan was a Columbian haven for some of the best coke in town. Fort Washington, Amsterdam Ave and 169th street seems like the area. Anyway we had been coping here for a few months. They used to sell grams, eight balls, quarters, halfs etc. And the deal was you could drive into the block. The dealers would see you coming and they would motion to you while you drove through. You would pull the car over, and without even getting out of the car, you could pull over, tell the guy what you wanted. They would give you the package, let you taste it. If you liked it, you bought it. If not, you moved on to the next dealer. Too easy. We had coped here several times this way, and for a street connect the stuff was usually good. Well, one night, we really wanted some coke. But as it goes, we were broke. Didn't have more than $20 bucks to our name. Couldn't seem to beg borrow or steal any. What to do? What to do? So we're brainstorming. The wheels are turning. How can we get a bunch of Coke with no money. Then it hit me. I started thinking about how this scene worked in Fort Washington. I remembered every package we bought. No matter what amount you bought, they were always sold in aluminum foil. The only difference was the amount of stuff inside. Well I got to work immediately. From the kitchen, I grabbed the aluminum foil from the cabinet. Got a bunch of baking soda and started making up different size packages, just to see what they looked like. Satisfied that I was on the right track. I looked at my ex-wife and said, well what do you think. She said, "what are going to do?" I said, "c'mom get in the car." On the way down, I told her my plan. She thought I was nuts. I said, "don't worry, look, they always give us a package to taste. I've got about four dummies here, each one is wrapped a little bit different. We tasted stuff down there that we didn't like and gave it back. Well, that's all we are going to do. We're gonna taste it, say we don't like it, and give it back. Except, we're gonna give back one of these. Chances are it will work like a charm. We will be long gone before they realise what's up. The only problem is we won't be able to go back there anymore!" Well, my ex-wife had been through a number of "adventures" with me and this one didn't make her feel much better. But, hey we were almost there now. So I drive into the block. The dealer pulls me over. I tell him I want a quarter. I think they sold quarters over there for about $250 bucks at the time. Well, the guy hands me the package. This is nighttime by the way. I open the package. I taste the stuff. As I'm doing this, I'm making sure that I'm going to use one of the packages I brought that most closely matches the one he gave me. The moment I'm sure that he's not really looking directly at me, I switch the bags. Now I'm holding one of my dummies. I tell him I'm not happy with the taste. He tells me, "it's good stuff man, whatch you mean?" I just tell him I didn't like it, and I hand it back to him. Heart in my mouth again, we start to drive off. We're about three quarters of the way up the block and we get stuck behind four or five cars waiting for a red light. My ex-wife is screaming now. "C'mon she says, let's get the fuck out of here." Through my rear view mirror I see a couple of people running up the block. Then I hear the screaming, cursing and yelling comming from them. Now, I'm screaming. Oh shit. They most of spotted the move, damn. The light at the corner is still red. The only thing to do, is to run it. The only thing to do is to get up on the sidewalk, pass these cars in front of me and run it. This is what I do. I jerk the car onto the sidewalk. Honk my horn to clear the few people out of the way, and hit the gas. The guys, three of them now, are right on my ass. They are calling me every mother fucker under the sun. I get the car to the corner. Looking for cops. Looking for traffic. Making sure it's okay to peel out. Finally I see it's clear. I hit the gas, run the light, and hang a left up Fort Washington Avenue. As I'm into the lefthand turn, I can see my "friends" reach the corner of the intersection. Through my mirror I see one of them pull a gun out. I watch him going into a crouch. I grab my ex-wife, and shove her down. With a last look at the road ahead, I finish the turn and duck my head down as well. Bang, Bang, Bang. Three shots are fired. One of them goes into the back window and exits through the passengers side window. Gotta look up now. All I need is an accident. I look up. The coast is clear. We are halfway up the block now. Thank god they are all on foot. We cross the next intersection and we are home free. Damn that was close. Almost blew it. Almost died. As paranoid as we both were, it's a good thing we had a little heroin at home to calm down with before we started dipping into the coke we just scored. The Giz