A Story Of How My Dealer Went Mad?

Best Dealer EVER we called him!

I meet him through my cousin who moved into the Shadwell (East London) area and got passed his number by a friend similarly thus to me.  He called himself Ray, an obvious alias as he’s of Bangladeshi origin, and mostly likely is called Mohammed or Faisal etc.  Regardless there was a period I would pick up from this guy a lot, and being a night owl like myself it was great as his times of operation were 8pm – 3am i.e. perfect!!!  For I would sometimes only decide to hangout with a friend at midnight, and then it would leave us plenty of time to travel to Shadwell, admittedly wasn’t close to where we lived i.e. a good 25 minute drive there, but for good solid quantities and pretty strong gear it was never a journey regretted.  I raved about this dealer to all my friends as the guys they were picking off were either selling them rubbish weed, or selling them close to a gram for £20 i.e. really bad scores.  Shadwell Guy was pretty good in both departments as his weights were good and the weed was pretty strong, actually quite suspiciously as it didn’t often appear that crystally but when burnt really fucked you up just seemed great at time but we’ll discuss this in more detail later.  Not before long nearly all of my weed smoking friends were picking up from him, and that’s the thing nobody had any complaints about the fella either as he was a nice chap when you met him, he didn’t do the “dealer thing” about taking the piss when it came to turning up on time, he was pretty reliable there too.  He was a nice guy and would often give us extra bits, and really that type of dealer has your custom FOREVER!!!

How Times Changed.

Ok so how did it all go wrong? Well not to cliche Scarface here, but we all think it when we started getting high on his own supply and well became a MASSSIVE STONER prior to before where I don’t believe he smoked at all! A lot of dealers smoke weed and manage perfectly fine, this guy well I’m not too sure he managed that well.  Initially when we’d call him he seemed distant, and unlike before it wasn’t like talking to your buddy where you’re on the same wavelength, you had to repeat yourself or speak slowly and when you hung up you were never really sure he’d fully understood what you’d said.  We should talk about his weed, it was weird, as it didn’t always look like it would work but it stank out the car and really did a number on you when you smoked it.  However all was not good here as the next day you’d wake up with a ridiculous headache / hangover and this was to veteran weed smokers.   At this point, however silly it sounds I don’t think had really associated the weed for the cause of these hangovers or at least not discussed this generally.

That Infamous Night

My friend and I decided to pick up some weed looking at the time it was 2.35AM and so we called him.  We knew it would be a rush to get to his place from us worried it was getting close to the 3am cutoff time, we left with no delay & drove like lunatics to his location and actually arrived at Sage Street with 10 minutes to spare.  Sadly we had a problem, my phone was had run out of charge along the way and now didn’t have his number were unable to call him to let him know we had arrived.  My friend who was with me, was new to this dealer and didn’t have his number either, so we texted and called everybody we knew to try and get his number so we could call him.  It was late so most people had either gone to bed or was going to delay in responding, regardless all but one person replied with the number, however this process had taken us past the 3am deadline Mr.Ray Shadwell operated.  So as soon as we got his number we texted him, and without really being able to properly explain what had happened via text, we urged him to meet us anyway, as I was felt it made more sense to tell him in person.  He initially replied saying “sorry it’s past 3!” we then urged him to meet us as we’d come so far he then replied favourably “alright, just this once”- Fantastic!! He called and asked me to meet him inside the concrete football pitch that’s enclosed inside Sage Street, so I obliged and waited where he’d suggested.  Meanwhile I’d left my friend waiting in the car, while I did the pickup.  Now this is where the story is gets slightly confusing as even though Mr.Dealer instructed me via text to meet him in the football pitch, he’d also at the same time texted telling us to fuck off. p.s a reminder that as my phone was dead, all these messages were going to my friend’s mobile meanwhile I waited unaware of this for the dealer to arrive.  So I see him walking towards me, and being my regular dealer this isn’t an unusual sight so he approached me, and I immediately greeted him and told him “Dude, we really appreciate you doing this for us man!” to which at that point he looked at me got the bag of weed and threw it on the ground and then stepped on it crushing it into tiny bits.  “There’s your fucking WEED! OK!!?”  I stood there momentarily stunned in amazement over what had just happened as he walked back to his car “What the hell?” I replied.  He then came back but this time with an empty beer bottle initially which i didn’t see when he was approaching me, so he came right up-to to me i immediately asked him “what’s going on? why did you do that for?” to which at that point he brandished the bottle and started threatening to bottle me, this was just too much for me, as I just wanted some weed, I had no idea why this guy whom I’d spoken to hundreds of times, a fella I’ve given lifts to, a person who we’d shared jokes with me e.g once as he’d seen me in fancy dress, i.e. he knew I was cool guy, and certainly not a trouble maker, was now threatening to bottle me. This motherfucka had  smoked too much of his shit and was tripping, cos I can’t explain what the hell was wrong with this fool.

 There’s No Such Thing As A The Best Dealer in the World.

Moving on to this time a friend / dealer now where our relationship started on the off to begin with, he was a nice but shy fella, and despite seeing him all the time around friends he refused to reply to my text messages for weed request but was cool with everybody else.  As time went on, somehow we became friends, and him moving out helped and I really got on with his girlfriend but generally I really liked those guys.  In someway him being my dealer felt wrong, cos I felt he was more my friend now and close one I felt. His deals, not just to me, but generally amazing! Perfectly trimmed buds, great weight, great stuff, what else could you ask for! He’d taken the dangerous title for best dealer in the world !!! For we all now what happens, when you’re given that title.. Things don’t last!! Doesn’t matter even if you’re nice, the rule will never break!!!