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Cocaine Ain't for Me, but I Love the Smell von Malone, Justone (eBook)

  • Erscheinungsdatum: 13.02.2015
  • Verlag: Justone Malone
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Cocaine Ain't for Me, but I Love the Smell

A regular blue-collar guy who stumbles into the world of cocaine dealing and remembers what it's like to live life and take chances. The money is rolling in, but he could care less. He is more concerned with the partying, the sexcapades, and the adventures that cocaine will take him on. But all good things have to come to an end. ©


    Format: ePUB
    Kopierschutz: none
    Seitenzahl: 164
    Erscheinungsdatum: 13.02.2015
    Sprache: Englisch
    ISBN: 9780986448645
    Verlag: Justone Malone
    Größe: 471 kBytes
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Cocaine Ain't for Me, but I Love the Smell


Cocaine ain't for me, but I love the smell...You will hear me saying that phrase over and over again. When I say that phrase people usually ask me what it smells like, and with a short and sweet reply, I normally say it smells like money. I say that because I know that's what people expect me to say. But it is much more than money to me; that sounds crazy but for me it is true. When I'm at a table drinking whiskey and bagging up three to four ounces of blow into one-gram baggies I'm not really thinking of how much money this shit is going to make me. I'm thinking of what adventures this shit is going to take me on. What crazy parties will I end up at, what inner circles I will be invited into, what random woman I will be fucking by the end of the night?

It's been many nights when me and, let's say, six to eight people bum-rush a club bathroom and turn it into a VIP area. People banging at the door trying to get in screaming they have to piss, some of the sexiest women in the club in the bathroom with us, and I'm shoving blow up their nose. I'm having so much fun so I don't give a fuck, plus normally, it's some random dudes buying the entire amount of blow their cash will allow, just to keep the partying going with these random women with the thought of them fucking these chicks by the end of the night. I make sure I don't leave until the women have my number, the men not so much because I know the women will be better customers because they will always have some suckers buying them blow.

You learn a couple things in this lifestyle when you pay attention, number one: all money isn't good money and number two: some people just are not worth the headache. Number three is my favorite: never stay in one place for too long. You have to master the art of always knowing when to leave, being able to move amongst a group of people and not draw any attention to yourself. I think all those things helped me to be great at what I was doing. I would walk into a bar or a club and study people's behavior: their body language, who they were talking to, and how many times they went to the bathroom. I could see the same people three or four times that week in the same bar and wouldn't make any contact with them. I would sit at the bar and have me a couple of whiskeys or a couple of cheap beers and study my prey.

Who were my prey? Anyone and everyone who could possibly be customers, not just any customers, but the right customer's, the ones with the right connections. Most people are so predictable and routine it's nothing for me to get to them. I would make eye contact with some people a couple of times before I mind-fucked them. If I knew a certain woman or dude was doing blow and who I thought would be a good customer for me, I would slide them a bag of blow. I would always bag up like five, twenty sacks when I was out scouting for new customers. After I made eye contact with them a couple of times I would walk up to them as I'm planning to leave the club and shake their hand with a sack of blow in my hand...I would smile and tell them to have a good night. They would feel what's in their hand and I would tell 'em, "it's on me, enjoy the party." Eight out of ten times this worked. When I saw them the next time I would act like I didn't even know their ass, but I knew I had me a new customer because most of the blow on the club scene is shit. It's a bunch of fake-ass dealers who step on their blow a bunch of times just to try to make a couple extra dollars. Mostly they're some cats that work in the industry as bartenders, servers, or just some random dude that's in denial about his cocaine habit. Fucking up the game, snorting up half their product, and selling the other half just trying to break even.

I provided more of a customer service, and I fancied the "give before you take" method. Most people are so busy trying to rip everyone off, or trying to make the mo

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