The life of a dope fiend in Chicago is a dangerous one. We enter into some of the most dangerous, hostile, and violent neighborhoods in the world, in search of the best dope we can find. The best deals the projects, street corners, and dope boys can offer. These places and people are incredibly scary to most people. and they were to me too, but there is a strange comfort that comes over me, when i make it past the surface streets, cameras, and cops, and find myself sitting at “the spot” where i am either meeting the guy with the shit I came for, or waiting for him to pull up. Nothing was nearly as scary and corrupt as the Cook County/ Chicago City Narcotics squad. “The Jump Out Boys” we called them, because that’s what they were. They didn’t need a reason, if they saw that you were white, or had Indiana plates, they hit their lights, and the pistols came out. I’ve had more guns pointed into my face than i care to remember. And this is all from the “good guys”. I’ve only had a gun pointed at me by a goon once, but we’ll get to that another time. countless times, i have been pulled over on my way to, or from the dope spot, been handcuffed, shook down, my drugs and money taken from me by the police, and sent on my way. sometimes they will slap you around, spit in your face and remind you just how much they hate you. What a worthless piece of shit you are. But i didn’t really mind this treatment, most of the time, they let you go, and deep down i knew that they were right. I would just be quiet, apologize, and promise never to return to that particular neighborhood ever again, only to wait at a gas station and watch them disappear- and hope that my dealer would replenish my stash once i told him what just happened.sometimes they would. The dope game in Chicago is a real life game of cat and mouse. my job is to get in, cop dope, and get out-back to the expressway, and their job is to catch me. i won most of the time.
One of the most extreme cases of police corruption I ever witnessed was during one of my many routine visits to the Pershing Projects. Now, these places, the project buildings in Chicago, are an incredibly dangerous place, even for a white dope fiend coming with money. you walk in and up these long seemingly never ending staircases is a never ending sea of the open air drug market. dozens of dealers yelling out things like “bottom line”, “Soul Train”, and “body bag”. “13 for a hundred ” was what i came for, and on one visit, i shopped with a man in a red Chicago bulls jersey. The place was deserted on this particular trip, which is usually a sign of high police traffic. but on this trip, i was so sick with withdraw, i proceeded anyways, against my better judgement. and i met the man in the bulls jersey. 12 for a hundred was all he was willing to part with, and after the exchange, i go to leave and glance back at him over my shoulder, feeling something sketchy in my veins, to see him pull a police badge on a chain out from inside his jersey. i had just purchased confiscated heroin from a corrupt police officer.
