phase_dancer
Bluelight Crew
- Joined
- Mar 12, 2001
- Messages
- 6,179
Another dope (me) tale 8)
During the mid eighties, my partner and I moved into a spacious 3 b/r home near the beach. The street was mainly occupied by elderly residents with a scattering of investment rentals. Ours was one of these.
One of the first things I noticed was a letter stuck to the back of a kitchen cupboard door. It was from the previous owner (long standing influential resident who built the house) to the current owner at the time, who I was renting from. The letter read as if the new owner had just bought the house and was having problems with a particular resident, 3 doors up. This being a small town, I was well aware of that house and had always done my best to avoid it.
I also knew OF the guy who owned it; that he was in prison for heroin supply and that he drove a merc convertible with the number plate Mr LARGE *, and that he had several weapons and was known to discharge them occasionally. Some people also called him mad........
* Changed for this telling
But I wondered what had prompted the note to be rather permanently placed in such an area. Within 3 months my question would be answered absolutely.
I worked from home doing electronic repairs and installations, using the large downstairs area as a workshop & contracting from local businesses. Occasionally jobs would come up that were really good, and very occasionally, one would come up which was er...not so good for one reason or another. A big problem with anyone finding out you do electronic repairs from home is that some people will turn up day and night with all sorts of shit and expect you to be able to wave a magic wand and fix it-for free. So I did my best to do only the jobs I wanted to. (Sounds good in theory )
After about 2 months living in the house I had reason to call the original owner for the combination of a floor safe which the current owner had never used. Almost ignoring the reason for my call, he asked if I had seen anyone in the house 3 doors up. I honestly said no. He then went on to say that the guy had just been released from jail where he'd spent 5 years...etc... He said that if I had any suspicions or trouble from him, to call him and the police immediately. Later I was to find out this guy had set Mr Large up!!
About a week later I noticed some activity around the house, but didn't pay too much attention. So it wasn't all that surprising when I got a phone call from the sole local HiFi business saying there was a service call 3 doors up from me if I wanted it. I was straight up, saying I would rather not get involved. A few days later he rang again saying the guy was hassling him, so could I please go. I still managed to say no.
That was until my ol' mate "...the fish.." came in saying "you must help my mate "S" with his stereo. He's been away for 5 years and needs his music to calm himself".
Ol "...the fish.." was like a guru to most who knew him (RIP mate) and I found I couldn't turn him down. So at 8am in the morning I walked into Mr Large's house, instantly noting the winchester pump action, riot issue shotgun sitting on the lounge. "...the fish.." went to wake him and was greeted with a pistol up the nose and a reply which I remember clearly...."FUCK ...the fish.. don't ever sneak up on me man. I've just had a shoot out with the... [insert well known criminal family] ....brothers'..."
...the fish.., unfazed, calmly replied that it was just as well he was looking out for him then, especially with an unlocked front door and a loaded shotgun downstairs 8(
[INSERT; ..the fish... was no stranger to such situations, having escaped communist rule and probable death in Albania by swimming the Adriatic Sea to Italy when he was 18. In the wake of this incident ...the fish.. laughed saying he had far more concern when a policeman was on the other end of the gun; a situation he faced as a teenager many times under the then newly elected communist regime which corrupted everyone in a position of power, and stripped wealth from royalty - his family.]
It was an expensive, high powered HiFi system. I fixed it quickly as Mr Large raved on about the lecherous people of this world while downing his straight whisky and waving his six gun around. As I was packing up, he asked if I knew much about TV's. ...the fish spoke for me.. and I was suddenly fixing it, or more specifically the antenna. I arranged to pull the thing down the next day.
Then he asked how I wanted to be paid. He said he had hash and could give me twice the value as a house call. I accepted after smoking a fat one and he said he'd come over later that night and fix me up. [VERY SILLY MOVE, but MORE SILLY moves were to follow]
At the time my ex girlfriend was staying with us, so I decided to ask her and K to help me do this job (pulling down a 40ft pole etc and re-erecting). This was before they met Mr Large, and while they were expecting him to call that evening, nothing could prepare them for that visit!
.....I should have known right then and there that we were moving into dangerous ground. I mean, after stepping out of the shower and walking into the living room to find Mr Large sitting there, gun in hand and an awfully suspicious looking large package in his lap, I sort of knew my previous concerns were beginning to look like a good mother's intuition. But what could I do to change it? Nothing at the time.
The large bag contained - you guessed it- a large amount of hash. He preceded to break off a small chunk and weigh it before giving it to me for payment. Why he couldn't do that at home was due to his need to impress. Five years out of contact with regular people would do that to almost anyone I guess. But his stories were scary to the girls, not least the tales of gangster shoot outs, but also by his accounts of his more recent behavior (which was to be somewhat difficult to rationalise when we arrived the next morning). After Mr Large left, the girls tried to back out of helping me with the antenna, but when I couldn't get anyone else they reluctantly agreed to assist.
We arrived to view an unbelievable sight. Almost all of his backyard had been dug up. It was a row of deep trenches with dirt piled up along side, and only a shovel in sight. He explained that he'd buried some jars of hash oil but somebody must have ripped him off. How he needed to dig that much to work that out is beyond me.
[INSERT: months later, a neighbor whom I was doing work for remarked; "Hey, you know the guy next door. Man that dude has some serious problems. I don't give a fuck what people do - drugs or whatever - but the music at 3am is too much for anyone..." When I said I didn't know anything about drugs, he said "Aw come on, you just have to look at his backyard...you can't tell me he doesn't have something to do with drugs..."]
The job was completed in record time and Mr Large again offered to pay me by hash. I said yes but I'd get it in a couple of days if it was OK, before I was to go on holiday.
Mr Large insisted he take us out to dinner that night to say thanks for the prompt service etc, and definitely because he liked the look of my ex. We were treated to a fine meal with Verve and Moet, but I knew this was far too close to get. This guy was very dangerous, unpredictable and irresponsible.
Avoiding contact for the next few days, I went over to get my payment before leaving on a 2 week holiday. It was about 8:30 am and he was pissed, holding a large glass of straight scotch in one hand and a bible in the other. It looked and sounded very bad. When he finally got round to fixing me up -fuddling around -dropping things- he handed me what looked to be 3-4 times more than we'd agreed upon. He insisted that it was close enough and to not worry about it. I held it up asking if he was sure, cause it felt heavy. He patted me on the back and wished us a good holiday.
When I got back he seemed to be away. Three weeks later, at a BBQ for friends, he walks in, steaming mad and loaded, saying I took advantage of him being out of it when he "paid" me. That was the beginning.......
[ONSET] Much calling on "special forces" to intervene [/RESOLVE]
...a time later, after managing to banish him completely from our lives, we heard he'd befriended some guys we knew who were privileged [?] with lots of drug spending money. While fooling with the gun one night, it went off, penetrating the wall some 15cm from one guy's head.
So in light of that experience, I would suggest only keeping any extra, after carefully assessing your dealer's level of sobriety and general sense of rationale. Like most people, where possible I'll try to only buy from dealers of a "good heart". It tends to also go with reliability, consistency and trust. But any organised dealer will usually have money as a main priority. If this is your situation you have to think whether its in your interest to not offer it back. Trust being what it is and all
During the mid eighties, my partner and I moved into a spacious 3 b/r home near the beach. The street was mainly occupied by elderly residents with a scattering of investment rentals. Ours was one of these.
One of the first things I noticed was a letter stuck to the back of a kitchen cupboard door. It was from the previous owner (long standing influential resident who built the house) to the current owner at the time, who I was renting from. The letter read as if the new owner had just bought the house and was having problems with a particular resident, 3 doors up. This being a small town, I was well aware of that house and had always done my best to avoid it.
I also knew OF the guy who owned it; that he was in prison for heroin supply and that he drove a merc convertible with the number plate Mr LARGE *, and that he had several weapons and was known to discharge them occasionally. Some people also called him mad........
* Changed for this telling
But I wondered what had prompted the note to be rather permanently placed in such an area. Within 3 months my question would be answered absolutely.
I worked from home doing electronic repairs and installations, using the large downstairs area as a workshop & contracting from local businesses. Occasionally jobs would come up that were really good, and very occasionally, one would come up which was er...not so good for one reason or another. A big problem with anyone finding out you do electronic repairs from home is that some people will turn up day and night with all sorts of shit and expect you to be able to wave a magic wand and fix it-for free. So I did my best to do only the jobs I wanted to. (Sounds good in theory )
After about 2 months living in the house I had reason to call the original owner for the combination of a floor safe which the current owner had never used. Almost ignoring the reason for my call, he asked if I had seen anyone in the house 3 doors up. I honestly said no. He then went on to say that the guy had just been released from jail where he'd spent 5 years...etc... He said that if I had any suspicions or trouble from him, to call him and the police immediately. Later I was to find out this guy had set Mr Large up!!
About a week later I noticed some activity around the house, but didn't pay too much attention. So it wasn't all that surprising when I got a phone call from the sole local HiFi business saying there was a service call 3 doors up from me if I wanted it. I was straight up, saying I would rather not get involved. A few days later he rang again saying the guy was hassling him, so could I please go. I still managed to say no.
That was until my ol' mate "...the fish.." came in saying "you must help my mate "S" with his stereo. He's been away for 5 years and needs his music to calm himself".
Ol "...the fish.." was like a guru to most who knew him (RIP mate) and I found I couldn't turn him down. So at 8am in the morning I walked into Mr Large's house, instantly noting the winchester pump action, riot issue shotgun sitting on the lounge. "...the fish.." went to wake him and was greeted with a pistol up the nose and a reply which I remember clearly...."FUCK ...the fish.. don't ever sneak up on me man. I've just had a shoot out with the... [insert well known criminal family] ....brothers'..."
...the fish.., unfazed, calmly replied that it was just as well he was looking out for him then, especially with an unlocked front door and a loaded shotgun downstairs 8(
[INSERT; ..the fish... was no stranger to such situations, having escaped communist rule and probable death in Albania by swimming the Adriatic Sea to Italy when he was 18. In the wake of this incident ...the fish.. laughed saying he had far more concern when a policeman was on the other end of the gun; a situation he faced as a teenager many times under the then newly elected communist regime which corrupted everyone in a position of power, and stripped wealth from royalty - his family.]
It was an expensive, high powered HiFi system. I fixed it quickly as Mr Large raved on about the lecherous people of this world while downing his straight whisky and waving his six gun around. As I was packing up, he asked if I knew much about TV's. ...the fish spoke for me.. and I was suddenly fixing it, or more specifically the antenna. I arranged to pull the thing down the next day.
Then he asked how I wanted to be paid. He said he had hash and could give me twice the value as a house call. I accepted after smoking a fat one and he said he'd come over later that night and fix me up. [VERY SILLY MOVE, but MORE SILLY moves were to follow]
At the time my ex girlfriend was staying with us, so I decided to ask her and K to help me do this job (pulling down a 40ft pole etc and re-erecting). This was before they met Mr Large, and while they were expecting him to call that evening, nothing could prepare them for that visit!
.....I should have known right then and there that we were moving into dangerous ground. I mean, after stepping out of the shower and walking into the living room to find Mr Large sitting there, gun in hand and an awfully suspicious looking large package in his lap, I sort of knew my previous concerns were beginning to look like a good mother's intuition. But what could I do to change it? Nothing at the time.
The large bag contained - you guessed it- a large amount of hash. He preceded to break off a small chunk and weigh it before giving it to me for payment. Why he couldn't do that at home was due to his need to impress. Five years out of contact with regular people would do that to almost anyone I guess. But his stories were scary to the girls, not least the tales of gangster shoot outs, but also by his accounts of his more recent behavior (which was to be somewhat difficult to rationalise when we arrived the next morning). After Mr Large left, the girls tried to back out of helping me with the antenna, but when I couldn't get anyone else they reluctantly agreed to assist.
We arrived to view an unbelievable sight. Almost all of his backyard had been dug up. It was a row of deep trenches with dirt piled up along side, and only a shovel in sight. He explained that he'd buried some jars of hash oil but somebody must have ripped him off. How he needed to dig that much to work that out is beyond me.
[INSERT: months later, a neighbor whom I was doing work for remarked; "Hey, you know the guy next door. Man that dude has some serious problems. I don't give a fuck what people do - drugs or whatever - but the music at 3am is too much for anyone..." When I said I didn't know anything about drugs, he said "Aw come on, you just have to look at his backyard...you can't tell me he doesn't have something to do with drugs..."]
The job was completed in record time and Mr Large again offered to pay me by hash. I said yes but I'd get it in a couple of days if it was OK, before I was to go on holiday.
Mr Large insisted he take us out to dinner that night to say thanks for the prompt service etc, and definitely because he liked the look of my ex. We were treated to a fine meal with Verve and Moet, but I knew this was far too close to get. This guy was very dangerous, unpredictable and irresponsible.
Avoiding contact for the next few days, I went over to get my payment before leaving on a 2 week holiday. It was about 8:30 am and he was pissed, holding a large glass of straight scotch in one hand and a bible in the other. It looked and sounded very bad. When he finally got round to fixing me up -fuddling around -dropping things- he handed me what looked to be 3-4 times more than we'd agreed upon. He insisted that it was close enough and to not worry about it. I held it up asking if he was sure, cause it felt heavy. He patted me on the back and wished us a good holiday.
When I got back he seemed to be away. Three weeks later, at a BBQ for friends, he walks in, steaming mad and loaded, saying I took advantage of him being out of it when he "paid" me. That was the beginning.......
[ONSET] Much calling on "special forces" to intervene [/RESOLVE]
...a time later, after managing to banish him completely from our lives, we heard he'd befriended some guys we knew who were privileged [?] with lots of drug spending money. While fooling with the gun one night, it went off, penetrating the wall some 15cm from one guy's head.
So in light of that experience, I would suggest only keeping any extra, after carefully assessing your dealer's level of sobriety and general sense of rationale. Like most people, where possible I'll try to only buy from dealers of a "good heart". It tends to also go with reliability, consistency and trust. But any organised dealer will usually have money as a main priority. If this is your situation you have to think whether its in your interest to not offer it back. Trust being what it is and all