I’ve never done drugs in my entire life. I drink a little, just to kind of
chill out at the end of the day, but I don’t like to party, or anything.
Some of my customers have asked me how I can conduct business if I’ve never
used the product myself, and I don’t think it’s too crazy that I don’t
partake. A lotion salesperson probably hasn’t used every single type of
lotion in the store; or perfume, or whatever. And caskets, what about
caskets? Not a single casket dealer has ever used one of their own models.
Or rather, they haven’t used it for its intended long-term purpose. I
suppose there are maybe a few freaks out there who get down like that, and
that’s what draws them to the industry. The way I see it, I don’t need to
know what it feels like to take a pill of certain properties. I just need to
understand my clientele, and what they’re looking for. My business came out
of nowhere. I had a lot of emotional problems when I was young, and my
parents had the idea to just throw mind-altering drugs at everything. I took
this, and I took that, and I tried cocktail after cocktail. Nothing helped
until I delved deep into my issues, and focused on getting better through
traditional therapeutic techniques. But then I had all these pills left over
that nobody—nobody—asked me to dispose of. I guess I was simply
expected to take the initiative to drop them off at my local pharmacy. Well,
I didn’t, so I just kept everything with me, and when I went off to college,
I didn’t bother sorting them out. I grabbed all of my medicine, and threw
them in the top drawer of my desk in the dorm. Some of it I still needed,
like my allergy meds, generic over-the-counter pain management, and
melatonin. But it was all in there, in the back, and one day, when a
neighbor asked me if I had something for his headache, a business was born.
He saw what else I had, and told me I was crazy for just sitting on them. I
could make some serious money if I started peddling it to other students. It
wasn’t the most insane idea. I mean, a few of those things could really help
them focus on studying, and taking tests. Still, I was hesitant, so I closed
the drawer, and dropped it. The other guy didn’t drop it, though. He started
spreading word around, and somehow, without me even making a single sale,
people were starting to call me The Pharmacist. They were in such need, and
I wasn’t, so who was I to stop them? They were all adults capable of
making their own decisions, and if this was what they wanted, fine. I didn’t
truly understand street value at the time, so I didn’t charge them very
much, but I had so much volume, so I made a huge profit, because I didn’t
pay for any of it myself. As time went on, word spread farther beyond the
dorm, and across campus. I was the guy to go to if you were looking for a
little help, and didn’t technically have some stuffy doctor to agree to it.
By the time I ran out of my supply, I was approached by a real life drug
dealer who wasn’t happy I was taking business away from him. I apologized,
and said I wasn’t in it for the long haul, but he wasn’t hearing it. He said
I had to go talk to Fartle. I didn’t ask him where Fartle got his nickname.
Or the spider tattoos. Or the gun. Fearing for my life, I agreed to start
selling for him, as long as I never had to sell anything that had to be
injected or snorted. He was fine with that, so that’s what I did. I didn’t
call myself a drug dealer until the first time I went to jail, and the judge
made me say those words, or he would double my sentence. When I got out, I
found myself free of Fartle, but I still felt compelled to sell. I’m too
good at it, so I’ve been doing it for ten years. I regret nothing.
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