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For about six months, I had a drug dealer living at my house (he was my roommate’s boyfriend). I didn’t know he was dealing/using drugs at first, and by the time I realized what was going on, he was already on his way to jail. I was lucky—looking back on it now I was in a very dangerous situation—I could have been robbed, someone could have been hurt or killed in my house, or I could have gotten arrested as an accessory to one of my roommate’s boyfriend’s crimes. For those of you who are as clueless as I was, here’s a five-step guide to help you find out if you are LIVING WITH A DRUG DEALER!
Find out where they lived before they move in.
My roommate met “Brian” when he was staying at a sleazy motel on S Highway 99. They’d met on a computer chat room and “Brian” invited my roommate to come visit him at the motel. He went expecting to get some sex but quickly realized something else was going on. When he got there he noticed unsavory people coming and going from the motel room. He went to the room anyway and ended up falling in love with the twitchy guy dealing inside.
Pay attention to things you find while cleaning.
One day I was scrubbing the tile floor in my bathroom when everyone was out of the house. I moved a laundry hamper and heard a clinking sound. I looked behind the hamper and found a little glass pipe. I sniffed it and it smelled of burnt plastic. When I gave it to my roommate and asked him what it was, he said, “Oh, it’s nothing. Just throw it away.”
What kind of car do they drive?
“Brian” owned three suped-up cars until he started dabbling in his own product. He had this bad habit of driving when high and inevitably his erratic driving would get him stopped by the police. First he lost his license and then, one by one, his cars. By the time he went to jail he’d become an expert at Metro bus schedules.
Where do they get their money?
By the time he got kicked out of my apartment “Brian” was robbing his mom—who lives on social security—and giving “massages” through ads in the SGN for $60 a pop. If you ever gave a blowjob to “Masculine Asian Male,” you already know him.
What kind of a job do they have?
When I first met “Brian” he had loads of cash but never seemed to go to work. Hmmm! Since he didn’t smoke any drugs when he first started dealing, he was making huge amounts of money. Finally he got busted and the cops threatened to send him to jail if he didn’t rat on his fellow dealers in Chinatown. He did for a while and this kept him out of jail, but when dealers were beginning to disappear one by one they started growing suspicious of who was turning them in. “Brian” decided he would be safer in jail than on the street and told the police he would no longer be their snitch. He now gets three square meals a day and shares a bunk bed in Shelton with a charming meth dealer from Forks.
So there you have it. If your roommate exhibits any of the characteristics listed above, you need to wake up and smell the crack! It’s time to face the truth: You’re LIVING WITH A DRUG DEALER!
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