Smoker's Tales

After Lily and my girls left for Denver in the summer of '76, Tabu and I went full throttle into the drug world. Our action plan included getting enough coke to sell and smoke each day. We used the term "baseball ."Game was sell. Play was smoke. The bats were glass pipes and the balls, rock cocaine. Ultimately, it was the deadliest game of my life.

I began using coke recreationally the previous year while selling it. I boastfully said I would never sell anything I didn't use myself in my unique marketing strategy. At first, I just sold to close associates and friends of friends. Then, I got a better connection and attended some celebrity get together with Tabu. The circle came to include some well-heeled L blacks. It was way cool for me. I mean, I was an outsider......a bit of a nerd, if you will, and I was in the company of these hipsters, who treated me like I was in their private club. That was just as mesmerizing as the drug itself. It was like being in love with a beautiful woman, then finding ugliness beneath the surface, but you are too smitten with her beauty to break away.

In the high tide of my addiction, I transported cocaine by bus, plane, and car to whatever part of the US my handler told me to take it. He would meet me in either Imperial Beach or Chula Vista give me a ticket and the storage location of the package. I would then deliver the bundle, get paid, get another ticket, and go to as many cities as possible. It was reasonably easy to work when I was sober. When I used the day of a trip, I was fidgety. But, all in all, I was one of the best couriers the organization employed. I loved the excitement of being incognito with my many names and get-ups. I met women with means and some without but avoided having affairs. They went against the grain of who I was. My heart was with Lynn. We were a perfect fit for what my life was about at that time. We lived the "good life ."She was obsessed with things, and I loved her enough to buy into her dream. Her upbringing in Baltimore was a story of abject poverty and sorrow, and I never wanted her to want anything in life. So I sold and smoked, smoked and sold, until the day I found myself face down in the sands of Mission Beach, struggling to breathe.

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My running buddies in Cali were natives or longtime residents. Most used recreational drugs. Derrick, a stylist, was the first person I latched onto because of his hustler's mentality and ability to get me in the mix. Alfredo, an engineering student at San Diego State, whose family owned a restaurant chain in Tijuana, latched onto me because I manipulated a government program so his wife could enroll in ESL classes. After that, I was a part of his family and the only African American to attend their celebrations. Before I left for Denver on vacation, he introduced me to a family member in Logan Heights. They asked if I would be interested in taking their products on consignment whenever I went to Denver. I said I was curious but would pay for my packages upfront. My father taught me to pay cash if I could, so I would not owe anyone if something happened. The loss would only be on me. We finally agreed to buy one get one if I could move a certain amount. I started with two ounces of high-grade Peruvian Flake and started traveling to and fro, steadily moving weight. In my hometown, hustlers and fiends waited for my visits. Dad was addicted to heroin and cocaine, so he was my coconspirator. He would place orders while I was in California, bringing them whenever needed. In San Diego, dealers resented me.

The primary reason was I was gay, and none of the guys could penetrate my calm exterior. I put up with the teasing and blatant sexism by consistently having the best coke on the street and a fine, dedicated woman waiting at the crib. To them, it was puzzling how I managed to have the best girls in the world at my disposal. I had this one customer we called "God's Gift "who constantly asked Lynn if she missed the ding a ling whenever she delivered to him. We laughed at his arrogance and decided to put his ass in his place. One day, after we discussed it, Lynn told him she wanted to take him up on the ding a ling offer. When she delivered it, he paid and immediately snorted a line. A few minutes later, he told her how much he looked forward to showing her what she missed by being in a relationship with a woman. Lynn said she wanted to slap him but instead told him he had to shower before they did anything. Excited, he left the drugs on the table and went to the bathroom. As soon as she heard the water running, she retrieved the baggy and headed home. When she came in with the cash and the coke, we high-fived and talked about the scam we'd run on him. I expected him to call that night, but he never did. I told him I was all out whenever he placed orders after that. Eventually, he stopped calling.