I dated two drug dealers in my life the first one sold weed, the other, blow, and why did I do this? For the glory, that’s why, and the drugs, and for the love of party I guess.
I dated two drug dealers in my life the first one sold weed, the other, blow, and why did I do this? For the glory, that’s why, and the drugs, and for the love of party I guess. I didn’t NEED to be with these guys, I figured what the fuck and wrote it off as a vacation from boredom. Next time I will just get a better hobby, here’s why:
You have to appeal to a dealer’s fantasy of what a drug dealer’s girlfriend should embody, and that usually boils down to your attitude and your ass. This guy thinks he’s king of his friends and custies, so he wants a trophy to lord around, he wants his friends to want you but know they will be F’d UP if they touch, totally cliché and totally fucking true, in every drug movie you have ever seen there’s the drug missus and everyone wants to plow her regardless if she is busted-looking or not, the fact that she is the dealer’s woman makes them want her MORE. Practically every friend and customer behind my bf’s back would give me horny eyes and be really into what I was saying and I got the if I fucked him vibe he wouldn’t rat.
You have to be bitchy like a choke chain, especially to your drug dealer boyfriend, right-away stand your ground firm or otherwise you will be his punching bag for the duration of the relationship. Despite it seeming risky the idea of lipping off a dealer, in actual sincerity they are scared little babies who constantly doubt themselves, their lives, everything, so you can get away with lippin’ them all you want. The main point of bitchiness is to put custies in their place, and to entertain your boyfriend by talking shit about them to pass time. A lot of customers owed my bf money and would get drugs on spot so my presence shamed them into paying up, in this case it is a bonus to have extra eyes and ears around.
Also, the business, bongs, blow.
Custies, what a dealer refers to his customers as, as a means to demean them, like his line of “work” isn’t the scum of the earth’s business. You will meet all types of people, many you would never give the time of day to in the real world, greasy hair, garbage clothes, low-IQ city, slow, boring, annoying fucks. Many are loner-types who schedule in their weed-purchases as hang-out burn sessions and you get in on all of it for free, always. When custies get high they like you to be there to look at, and they like you to laugh at their shitty boring stories. When they burn-out they go home, then more show up. Great. Your boyfriend needs you to double as the barmaid and bouncer, to get rid of them when they’re starting to feel like equals. Going on deals you will visit a lot of their houses, apartments, street corner hang-outs, and so on. Eventually, sometime when your boyfriend is on a good high he will refer to you as his partner, act really touched like you are pleased that your hard work is finally being recognized, laugh like hell inside your head.
Also, coke, duh, and clothes.
D-Delusions of grandeur
Both guys were pretty unstable but tried to appear otherwise. I remember as I was prepping to leave the second dude he was just falling to fucking pieces, total mental collapse, breakdown, crying and sobbing and hyper-ventilating on the kitchen floor. They think they own the world and the world recognizes their greatness and having cash laying around fuels the fire. You don’t have to be a dealer to be like this, it’s something you are born with and your environment and the people you surround yourself with either kills or feeds it. Selling drugs to people who are way beneath you definitely helps.
Get ready for some MASSIVE ego based on insecurities of his past, so you know you’re in for the fucking funny farm. There is nothing scarier than an unstable person with copious amounts of self-love. 95% of his time is spent trying to convince people he’s superior, wiser and far more urbane than them. Some of his custies have money, legitimate funds, and your boyfriend wants to earn their respect, and he attempts to do this by way of fashion groupie-ism. Often you’ll show up to find a new expensive fugly jacket your boyfriend bought that day and you have to straight-faced tell him it’s awesome, along with all the custies in the room who can’t even pay their fucking phone bills. He also knows everything about designer labels because counterfeit merchandise is also part of the biz, and you have to pretend to be into it too.
You will lose all of your friends when you date this guy, anyone with a brain will be like see ya. Think of it as a holiday. Some of your friends (the pieces of shit ones) will stick around to get the drugs-convenience spill-over though. Your new friends are custies/friends of your boyfriend, which is ideal because when you dump him, you don’t want to see those people ever again. My bfs thought we would be together forever, yes we had something truly special. Dude, what we had was a co-dependent abusive relationship, the foundation of which is based on drugs and money and being high all the time. You will see your friends again when it’s over.
If this is ever mentioned, you didn’t hear it, you don’t know what or where it is, the end. You will be privy to a LOT of information that if you weren’t stoned immaculate (snappy Doors reference**) could make you shit in your pants. As leverage, your bf will try to instill some fear into you that if you should ever leave him, crap about “certain people” finding you, blah blah, while vaguely possible, isn’t likely, you are small potatoes. Anyway, remember a few names or faces, but as more and more time passes after you break up, you forget everything anyway, and you move on. I was baked the whole time anyway, and I’m not stupid. When it’s all over you keep everything quiet – it’s part of a code. I took a lot of shit worthy of calling the cops and charging both guys, but I didn’t. I never saw any grow-ops though, I’m just using it as an example.
The job of the pusher is to get you hooked to keep you blitzed so you won’t leave, cos then you get to thinking oh no where will I get dope if we break up, and if you weren’t high all the time you’d realize how much of a dick he truly is, duh. A dealer also relies on the addiction of his custies and you help him make drug time, fun time. You are what junkies picture in their head when they think of getting high, you have to provide them with a space and atmosphere so that they keep coming back and forget that they’re such aimless losers. It’s your job to be like hey come over and we’ll do ‘shrooms Friday night together then when blasted I’d put my bikini on and dance to MJ for whoever wasn’t too fucked to notice.
I dunno, intelligence? Something you will not come across very much while you are dating this dickbag. You’re going to be doing quite a bit of dumbing yourself down, you know how you’ve had one friend your entire life and you barely hang but when you do you turn into someone else completely cos this friend is a total ignoramus and you bring yourself down to their idiot-level, yeah that’s you and your boyfriend and everybody you come across. We couldn’t find a lighter once and this chick said we could boil water and light our smokes off the steam, ‘nough said.
Also, itching, intimidation.
You are a junky, you are dating a drug dealer, you tell yourself you are not a junky, but you are, smoking weed five times daily and doing blow here and there, yeah, equals junky. Sucks, eh? I guess you could take it down a notch to pothead. Junkies will bang on the window at 5 in the morning for coke cos they ran out of meth. The word junky will never be used cos it makes things real. Being a junky and looking like one are two different things, consider functioning alcoholics, they’re fine and tolerable, encouraged even, but once they are stumbling messes of themselves, goodbye. Same for junkies. If you want to be one of the gang, you have to look the part, yes this is a movie duh. You will barely take showers too cos you will be constantly hung and burnt-out and the feeling of water on you is too much to handle. (I would like to mention that I have never done meth, heroin, acid or injected anything ever in my life, ps.)
Also, joints, rolling them, Johnny Depp.
K-Kate Bosworth in Wonderland
That’s who you want to be, and that’s who you are, and there is always an ex-girlfriend of your boyfriend who is in the background that he keeps secret from you but you are aware of anyway but act otherwise, anyway, she’s crucial ‘cos at least he has her to understand him and tolerate all his shit. Anyway, Kate Bosworth, booooiiiing. Remember the scene when Val Kilmer fucks off for a long time and leaves her alone in a motel room forever, you are going to be doing a lot of waiting so maybe you should start a blog or something.
There is going to be a lot of it and eventually you will be doing a lot of it too, dealers are extremely paranoid and uptight and will do little tests to catch you in a lie because they have a lot of time on their hands between dealing and getting high, they see you as an activity. Their craft rubs off on you and soon enough you pull some stunts too. Dealers are all pathological liars so have fun. This is not unlike delusions of grandeur, ‘cos they actually believe the lies they tell you and will fly off the handle if you don’t say you believe them like the very character of their being is under question. The word TRUST will be thrown in your face a lot, try not to laugh hysterically over it. Haha but that’s like every relationship, just large-scale when pretentious drugs are in the mix.
Do not touch it, do not look at it. Dealers count their money OBSESSIVELY they like to pretend they are Johnny Depp in Blow and money is stacked to the ceiling of every wall, when you see your boyfriend counting his money or worse, your boyfriend and one of his friends speed-counting it together, you will feel very embarrassed for them. What’s worse is, cos you’re dependent on this guy for a social life you have to act cool about it. Oh speaking of that, you do not have a life outside of this guy, you are not allowed cos he is insanely possessive.
Also, mafia, manipulation.
Dealers are extremely wary of narcs, you will be at a house party and your boyfriend will whisper to stay away from so-and-so because they are a narc. 9 times out of 10 this is false information. Who knows how the narc rumors begin and who started them. Why would a narc party with dealers and custies all the time? This isn’t – insert any fucking drug movie here. Rumours were spread about me even being a narc, like if I narc’d on you why didn’t you go to jail? Also, dealers think they are sneaky and all stealth and they’re not, they may as well be running around with fluorescent red arrows hovering over their heads.
You will have the opportunity to deal yourself. Don’t. Instead, just hook up people you know and while you should be getting a cut, don’t ever ask. Your boyfriend knows he should be giving you a cut, but he won’t cos he’s greedy and thinks you’re dumb (yes because it’s dumb to have clean hands, idiot). When and if everything goes to shit, that not having anything concrete to do with “the business” will help you sleep better at night. Oh if he ever asks to put money in your bank account the answer is NO. Another important O is Other dealers, you will meet a lot of them, speak their lingo, but for the most part, shut the hell up when in the same room, chances are they are a million times crazier than your bf, who is also petrified of these guys.
This will get on your nerves and drive you total bananas. Remember the I call bullshit article when drug dealers were called out for using code-speak on cellphones? Well, they still do that. But they also fuck up a LOT. They use online chat to set up meetings too which blows my mind, hello bill gates computer evidence that’s catalogued forever. See, paranoia rubs off on you too.
He’ll talk about quitting now and again so try not to be discouraging just nod your head and be quietly amused like the world is his oyster and no options are closed to him. He wants to go legit, and that’s cool, but he is so addicted to the riches and the “power” he will never ever be fully legit. Think of it like your dad be-moaning never becoming a rock star or something, no big deal.
This one is up there with being almost as annoying as watching them count their money. Every pothead has an insane amount of pride about their spliff-rolling abilities, and if they fuck it up the first time, they will rip apart the joint and do it over, if there is even a tiny crease they will tear it apart again and you have to sit patiently and not act like your skin is crawling up your face. Then when it is passed around you all have to comment on how amazing it is and usually it’s packed too tight and runs anyway so you waited all that time for nothing. Bongs are mostly a west coast thing, not really an option, I think it boils down to suburban kids being too paranoid to have a drug implement hanging around from all the coke they do. You will get really good at rolling joints, little pinners are the best and always appreciated.
One of the first things the second dealer I dated said to me was that he had a Scarface complex and it took every bit of effort to not fucking erupt in a volcanic fit of laughter. I could write a book based on how that was the stupidest thing I ever heard. This guy had gold rings on every one of his fingers and used to polish them all one by one at house parties in the kitchen in front of everybody WTF? Dear Italians who idolize Al Pacino in Scarface, dude was a CUBE (no NOT Italian believe it or not) so SHUT UP and he dies in the end!
Laugh when this happens to you then make some back. The one guy told me he hid coke somewhere in my house and if I ever ratted him out he would tell the police I had all this blow at my house, I believed it for a second then was all nah, so bullshit. They will avoid hitting you in the face if they know you come from a good background and will call the cops on them, but that won’t stop them from threatening to do it you know when you hold your fist up and make your face all ugly-mean, push the envelope here, you have to, laugh at them, call their bluff.
User, junky, hophead, pillhead, coke-fiend, whatever, these are your peers for the next little while and you know, you don’t even have to be dating a dealer to hang with these geniuses, some of you probably have a few in your circle already. A user is someone who uses, a dealer is someone who gives a user something to use, obvs.
After awhile you will be pretty paranoid yourself and every van you see you will think it is the FBI (Flowers By Irene haha, no seriously.) You might think it is terrorists too, this is why I can’t smoke weed anymore. Burn on me.
Try to smoke as little weed as possible cos you will start to go manic and piss everyone off. You will learn about all different kinds of weed, oh and this is a way for female custies to flirt with your boyfriend in front of you, because you obviously do not give a shit about the quality or kind of weed, but the girl custies act disgustingly enthusiastic over it while getting high with you guys and you have to swallow your rage. They are usually from BC and are insanely annoying and your bf has a pink crush on them from all their flirting, which is solely a means to get free or cheap weed.
X- x-pensive things
The first dealer I was with was kinda a cheapskate, the other one liked to front, so money was blown a lot, this goes back to the Scarface mentality, Goodfellas, whatever, you are supposed to make people feel inadequate beside you by way of dazzle-camouflage, and when you have nice shoes on and jeans you forget all the bad stuff. Don’t get greedy though and don’t let him buy you everything because every time you fight it will be mentioned and used against you.
Your bf is a yes-man and he hates himself because of it, but that’s how he makes money and in order to cleanse himself of the sleaze what is yes-manism, he has a bunch of groupie yes-men at his beck and call, they are all full-on addicts, and sketchy guys who drive him around and do drop-offs for/with him and get a tiny cut, typically paid in drugs.
I took anti-depressants while dating the second dealer cos the first one fucked me up so much, long story short, Zoloft plus drugs isn’t a good idea, it made me manic again. I am not on them anymore and all the weight they made me gain is off finally too. There are many possible outcomes from dating a dealer that could happen to you, the main one is bitterness. You will also feel embarrassed, but whatever, it wasn’t so bad, there were some good times (keep telling yourself that). And guess what for the rest of your life you get to start conversations with I dated a dealer once and all of your stories will be ten times more ridiculous than everyone else’s. WINNER.
Editor’s Note: Decided to close this thread because it’s getting boring.