Night On the Hustle

I quit selling partyWhatevers some years ago; shortly after I learned I had PTSD. I realized that there was Just No Way. The stress would kill me. Or else I’d be caught & screwed for it in imaginable ways.

Quitting that racket has been a noble if thus far tragically nonviable undertaking. While far from stable, the shroom business provided me with the occasional 2 to $3000 stack. And they help out considerable.

Since then I’ve been so broke that I wonder if it’s Wrong to sell a kidney. I can see one circumstance where it could work…maybe. But I won’t spell it out because that’d make it sound like we had unlawfulness on Open Container speedWay.

Less complicated is the question of whether it’s moral to sell marijuana to a grown adult.

Can I get a Hell YES from the People!!

It is not only Moral but judicious. Especially if someone wants to buy it. If no one does then it’s inadvisable — since you’ll likely get stuck trying to pawn it off while you don’t smoke it (yeah right) for half the next week.

I can’t sell pot anymore either. Because that shit happens incessant.

Consider the scenario: You get ‘cuffed (loaned) an ounce of pot by a friend who made no bones about their certainty that they would regret it. It’s not that you’d ever rip them off coldly — an incontestable truth which ultimately sways your friend over his, and your own, better judgement — but still.

For ten thousand reasons the last thousand fronted ounce deals have rarely concluded happily.

This time it was almost different. You owe $300 for zip. To repay you need sell six of the ounce’s eight eighths for $50 each. That leaves you ideally with one to smoke and one to sell. But you haven’t eaten for two days. You need a pack of American Spirit menthol to smoke & a few pills to stay awake. Plus you owed someone $20 from party Whatevers last week…the same Someone who happens to score the first satchel.

So a fiddy spot poofs before you’ve started. You still need to sell six eighths for $50 to break even and gain just one bag for profit.

Since you sell your next bag to a Friend you can only get $45. Because it is unconscionably difficult to charge a friend $50. Then you remember: I never sell pot to strangers!

At this rate you’ll be $15 ahead if you sell every sack at $45. And that of course presumes you dispatch the entire ounce in one night. Makes you a touch nervous, that bitchy $15 thing. Jumpy. Better go pack a bowl & smoke it to calm down.

Plan to sell that bag for $45 firm — tell ’em it was a fiddy minus five for the very small bowl you packed (a couple tokie-tokes down the line it manages to fetch a half-respectable $30).

The margin is tight but the night goes well. Even managed to swing off a couple for full price to students from LandMine college…You go to sleep in the morning — finally — with $249 cash and one eighth left to sell. Get $50 for it and you’ll be just one dollar short!

All told, an exemplary night on the Hustle.

Except when you wake up in the morning and reach into your pocket to count your dough you discover, with violent dismay, that you slept on & miserably squished the last of the stash.

Now. You can — and will — traverse great lengths to convince potential flat-sack Custies that the buds are provably none worse for the wear.

‘Provably?’ One asks opportunistically. ‘Then smoke some with me right now. To prove it.’

Of course you have no choice — what good is a man’s Word if he don’t back it up? Plus the dude promises to pay full price for the sack — should he deem it ‘untarnished’ — even though the two of you just smoked from it.

A gamble for sure — but if it pays off you sell the sack and get stoned.

Desperate gambles rarely pay off.

The best you can recoup from the eighth of Flatties is $25 plus a loose speed pill or two. You pop these and do a little hypovent-O-freak out, quietly, by yourself, on a bench at the train station. You chose the train station partly because you like trains. And sitting there when everything sucks makes you feel like you’re off for something better.

It is also one place your debtor is sure to not inadvertently find you.

The train station in Brattleboro is a few hundred feet away from the bridge across the Connecticut River. Just past that is the local Wal Mart — built when Vermont wouldn’t allow them. The river forms the border with New Hampshire.

3-odd miles or so past the Wal Mart is the Hinsdale Off Track Betting & Poker Parlor. You may want to try there if you’re short on cash after a typical night on the hustle. In fact you may just want to skip the Hustle altogether and make straight for the OTB. I occasionally have won respectable sums from paltry investments. In other words I have triumphed mathematically at the races. It happens.

Not so with one single damn ounce of weed on the Cuff. Can’t recall breaking even — and for certain I’ve never done better.

Well then. Thanks for reading…I got to go now & scoop up a few bucks I’m owed for washing dishes (hired & fired in a day. Sad story) last weekend.

Then I’m off: to the Races.

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8 Responses to “Night On the Hustle”


  1. 1 pippi November 15, 2006 at 4:03 pm

    hahaha, boyz and bizness; ya’ll make me chuckle.
    šŸ˜‰

  2. 2 galloway November 15, 2006 at 4:28 pm

    Always found it advantageous to cut the eighths (weight or quality — matters not) and retail them through a third party. That way you only lose one friend and make more profit.

  3. 3 xela November 15, 2006 at 9:19 pm

    Obviously, I am all too familiar with the scenario. Every #$%#%ing side of the equation. A friend who makes their own desperate gamble on you coming back with all their money has only themselves to blame. Therefore, you don’t lose friends. Your true friends knew the stakes to begin with. Whatever you lose with those other folks, you taught them a valuable lesson. A lesson they are NOT doomed to repeat since they weren’t your true friends to begin with. Wow, I just convinced myself that I am a sucker….It is a true crime not to separate a sucker from their money.

  4. 4 Mike E November 15, 2006 at 10:30 pm

    In that case, Ms. Xela — can you ‘loan’ me a quick $50??

  5. 5 xela November 20, 2006 at 6:32 am

    Ms., I like the sound of that…Ms. Xela – I’m glad you made that clear… Some of us “boyz” in “bizness” have pussies. By the way, it’s only Ms. Xela if yer nasty. Ms. makes me sound so distinguished. I better brush my shoulders off. Mike e, about that loan, the next chunk o’ change I rustle up, I will send a chip of that chunk to you. I’m serious. Believe me, I need it as much as you maybe even more so because I eat a coupla times a day and I know that you are a breatharian. It won’t be much but it’ll buy ya a shit ton of air. Please spend some of it on some food, too.

    PEACE TO ALL YA’LL BACK EAST>


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