How I Accidentally Became a Drug Dealer
I became a known drug dealer, despite the fact that I had absolutely no drugs to sell. (I'd never even smoked the stuff.) I was the Mexican dude who sold pot. People I didn't know were calling me and asking me to meet them places with my invisible marijuana.
I remember being terrified that the police were going to come to my room and arrest me and put me in prison, despite the fact that the most offensive thing I had at the time was 311's Soundsystem album.
If all of this accidentally happened now, I'd change my ringtone to UGK's "Pocket Full of Stones" and change my Twitter handle to @IceCreamMan and have a good laugh. But I was humorless at the time, and this whole thing became a nightmare for me.
You know what doesn't work? Telling people you're not a drug dealer. People don't believe you -- they think you're holding out on them. And so I existed in a perpetual state of nervousness. Not quite Al Pacino at the end of Scarface, but not far off.
Eventually, I just started telling my people that my connect had dried up, that the person I was buying my hundreds of pounds of weed from monthly had gone rogue. People understood that. People believed that. Some even sympathized with it, which was truly remarkable/stupid.
The whole series of events lasted something like two weeks.
You can still feel free to call me the Ice Cream Man, however.
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