Ask a Dope Fiend: Terrible Advice for Your Average Drug Abuser
By Acula D. Fiend, MD
I recently had my wisdom teeth pulled and the doctor gave me Vicodin. It’s been three days and I feel fine. I want to sell a few off to make some rent money, but I’m not sure how much to charge. I think they are 7.5mg.
– Toothless on Tupper
Rx: Well, Toothless, give it a few days. Now that you’re King of the Fucking Post-Wisdom-Teeth Universe, you probably feel pretty invincible, don’t you? You’re fucking high right now, huh? But watch: two days from now, you’re going to throw caution to the wind and be munching on some Doritos and get a corner of a chip jammed up in your socket. The sutures’ll tear away from your gums. There’ll be blood and a bunch of pain. You’re not going to feel so fine then, are you?
Vicodin is a trademarked name for hydrocodone – a synthetic opiate similar to codeine. It’s also handed out as Alexsia, Liquicet, or Lortab, to name a few. In lamenting the recent surge in popularity of illicit opiates, cops and parents and teachers and various other pig bastards are quick to cite the adage, “Weed is a Gateway Drug.” But when people say that “Weed is a Gateway Drug,” they forget that there’s a shitload of painkillers on the black market, and Poppy makes its own introductions. Your typical Weedhead-turned-Junky first fucked around with opiates when they got their wisdom teeth pulled in high school while they were (incidentally) fucking around with pot. Their one sketchy friend taught them how to crush it up and blow. They were retarded to do this, because all the acetaminophen and filler makes the euphoria intermittent between migraines and pukiness. But once a middle class user blows Vic, then they get to college and it’s 4 in the morning and they have a paper due at 9 and suddenly a rail of Adderall doesn’t seem so bad. Or they were stressing over Finals and they wrapped their head around a ground-up, peeled-down Xanie bar. And then they got into coke in their early 20s ‘cause they hadn’t seen their old dorm mate since graduation and it was 2 in the morning on Sunday night and they hadn’t listened to Sean Paul in 3 years and they had an interview coming up on Monday at 8. And then who knows what after that. They’re King of the Fucking Post-Wisdom-Teeth Universe, right?
But right now you’ll feel fine up until you idiotically rip apart your sutures. Set a couple aside for emergencies like this, hand a few to the friends who’d do the same for you, then take the extraneous pills and try to sell them at $5 apiece. Good Ol’ 7.5mg Vicodin 500mg? Cut quantity deals at $4 per pill. And if you have a refill, try to unload it wholesale at 3 for $10. It’ll be worth it to save yourself the hassle of having to present a script to a cop as you go apartment to apartment, giving out smiles.
What is better? Tylenol or the generic?
– Legit Inquisitor
Rx: Really? Tylenol? Obviously, the generic is better, because either way it’s a money hole to nowhere. It’s time for you to slug a bottle of Nyquil and lose your job tomorrow, Inquisitor. Then slam your face with a heavy door and hope your Primary Care Physician is a push-over with an Rx pad. Get yourself some codeine and eat it ‘til you get sick. Push your push-over physician around for more until he refers you to a Pain Management Specialist, and then push that motherfucker around, too. I don’t want you to ever feel like Tylenol does anything for you ever again. Really? Tylenol? Have you ever heard of “Drugs”?
My dealer is always late and unapologetic. I’ve been made to wait for a half an hour in a snowstorm because he repeatedly said he was “around the corner.” Do drug dealers with a “Customer’s Always Right” business model exist?
– Dilly-dallying with Dope-peddlers
Rx: Junk Superstars William Burroughs and Lou Reed both put up a semi-acquiescent fuss about “The Wait” a half a century ago. For the not-too-uncommon dealer without a “Friend in Need” mentality about their living room, a sketchy parking lot transaction can seem like a loss leader for business: too much risk with everything going on. The trick is to have someone sketchily sitting in their car (or waiting on-foot) with a wad of cash and, who knows, whatever else they got. Then you just roll in and make the switch and bail. If someone sees it go down, the other person is the last one to leave, the last one in a traffic queue, and the first one to bend for a flashing light or a police baton.
The dealer-customer relationship is a strange and tenuous one to be sure. Casually mention the cold you had to endure, but most of all, keep an Open Ear in mind. Maybe his Girl was just giving him grief for having to ditch to make the deal, you know? Or something like that. Over time, the dealer’ll learn that you’re always there, and that your money’s always good. And you both have mutual needs. Deal with “The Wait” until you’re on top. Figure the courtesy bump or blunt into the capital cost of materials. Basically, become the dealer’s best friend and you’ll even be the first in line for expedited triage and price breaks. Imagine!
For advice on how to best celebrate your body and mind (by poisoning them), send questions to email@example.com