I began playing with money as a wee youngster; or as my mother called me (and still does, occasionally), “a little shit.”

There’s just something about solid currency—the way it shines, maybe—that makes it irresistible to toddlers, i.e. they’ll stick it in their mouths. I must have been a bit older because I’m pretty sure I remember my old man saying “If you swallow a quarter, it’ll come out two dimes and a nickel.” Whaa? Really, Pops? This was going to be sooooo cool. I tried and … no dice, or coins, for that matter. So, like a fool before a rigged arcade game, I tried again.

Age 7
I was absolutely mesmerized by those giant United Way funnels. Just drop a coin into the slot, then watch it go aaaaaaround … and aaaaaaround, down into the abyss. Putting two quarters in, at the same time on opposite ends, is an even better show. However, it’s apparently a big no-no to try and snatch the quarters back, just as they near the vortex.

Age 10

Around this time, “The Amazing Jeff” began showing up at senior centers. This little boy was thinking about a career in magic. His favorite tricks were those involving real money, preferably dollar bills. Money tricks are great because they involve an everyday item that most folks habe on-hand. Plus, because it’s worth something, tricks with money keep the audience’s attention. And, it helps if it’s their money. If he’d stuck with it, The Amazing Jeff might have lived up to the moniker. But practicing money-tearing tricks is difficult, especially for those with limited finger dexterity, a sub-par understanding of magic, and a very nominal allowance.

Age 13

To purchase a Nintendo-64, I withdrew all my savings in six crisp twenties. The night before the big buy, I huddled around the cash—just touching it, fanning it out, actually using it as a fan, etc. I’d never seen so much green before.

This, I thought, must be exactly what it’s like for millionaires. And now that I was a real Richie Rich, I turned to the movies for real-life guidance. I’d seen Blank Check, so of course I took the six twenties and threw them in the air with exuberance, enjoying that brief moment just after they’d separated and paused in mid-air before drifting lightly to the floor like a few disappointing raindrops.

Looking back, it was all a bit silly. I should have gotten all $120 in one dollar bills. It would have looked a lot more impressive.

Junior High
In the summers, Ben and I had a lawn mowing business. Being the little shits we were, it was called “BJ’s Lawn Service—We’ll trim your bushes.” We made business cards.

There was a bit of cash changing hands—between the two of us, and between us and slightly put-off customers who now had our calling cards. It was around this time Pops showed me how to count bills like a man who actually knows how to handle money. With the stack in your left hand, you push the top dollar with your thumb, grabbing it with your right pinchers and pulling away. Done fluidly, the action makes a crisp, snapping sound. I practiced the motion for hours, counting my cash with each new sphp! of the dollar-snap. Finishing the stack, I’d flip it over and count again and again and again.

Once I had that down, Pops showed me the black art of money handling. Like how you can fold a few dollars in the middle of the stack and then fan out the bills. The amazing illusion almost doubles the amount that appears in your hand. I think Pops meant to show me as a warning against thieving customers. I took it more as a tip. Whenever I had a few dollars in my pocket, I practiced the maneuver. It’s a safer trick than trying to magically rip someone’s dollar in half, so long as I don’t try it out on anyone.

High School

Children’s play veered toward the deviant and criminal. Sure, we still folded up dollar bills and played paper football. Between games, however, we talked about The Web and how it said all U.S. bills contained traces of cocaine. “Whaa? For realz, yo?” “Yea, all you need is, like, a box-cutter razor to scrape it off.” This was gonna be sooooo fucking cool. Soyeah … we were so foolish back then

And then there was weed! For pure giggles, I sometimes purchased my quarter-ounce bags with bags of quarter-dollars. And who would have thought you could see the NWO’s entire plan for domination laid out right there on the federal currency, in minute detail of Latin script and masonic symbols? When you looked and fondled and stared and examined it long enough—like an hour or two—it was so obvious, dude.

I was back to staring at money completely mesmerized and putting it in an orifice. Lesson: Don’t do drugs, kids. They’ll stunt your development.

Post-graduation


This was a low point. Dropping out of college and injecting illicit and dirty substances can have that effect. The woeful affliction must have been going around, because the post-grad, degree-less drug dealers were no longer amused by the bag of quarters. It became all business. But for hard cash, they did have some coke. Notwithstanding the felonious drive home, the most pressing issue on my mind was how I was going to snort it. At the bank window, I pulled out a $100. Just a Franklin, if you please.

I’d seen parts of Scarface, so I knew how you were supposed to snort coke in real life. Since I couldn’t afford to sink my nose bridge-deep into a white heap of Montana’s finest, using a $100 bill seemed like the next best thing. I rolled up the Benjamin and admired my craftsmanship by sticking it up a nostril and prancing in front of the mirror.

Gawd, TheCokeWasAwesomeAndIWantedMoreALOTMORE! So I grabbed a box-cutter. The lowest point may have been trying to scrape a spare Washington after the hundred was rendered useless for anything but kindling. (Don’t do drugs, kids. They’ll stunt your development.)

Age 21
The building straddled the Arkansas-Missouri border on a ridge just above the highway, surrounded on all sides by dead grass illuminated by neon lights. As we drifted to a stop at what would be my first real strip club, I knew, even then, that nothing good would come of this.

A couple of beers in, my friend insisted on courtside seats. I declined his eager offer for “a little attention” from the lady gyrating on stage and instead turned my head to observe what appeared to be a very happy double-date in progress at another table. I turned back toward the stage and noticed a little oragami dollar folded like a pup tent in front of me. I remember thinking how odd and curious and adorable it looked. Then three successive things happened—(1.) On closer inspection, the dollar bill had to have been the worst origami I’d ever seen, (2.) I turned to my friend, who was looking at me with the twisted grin of a man completely incapable of folding origami of any kind, and (3.) a pair of legs anchored themselves on my shoulders, putting me face-to-face with a scantily clad vagina.

The whole thing took less than a second and it was absolutely horrifying.

Since then, I’ve discovered that most strip clubs are horrifying, sexually speaking. But they’re also tremendously fascinating, especially when it comes to economy. With prostitution, the exchange of funds is just the final transaction. In strip clubs, that monetary transaction is the game. Men fan out the bills and wave’m around. They stuff a dollar where they can. And don’t forget the guy extending his cash-clinching fist toward the lady on stage, aimlessly shaking the green like a chimp trying to paint the side of a barn.

Age 23

Maturity began to set in, which basically means doing less drugs and thinking about larger sums of cash. As a result, the money games took on a more esoteric nature. Fooling around with actual bills no longer held much appeal. Not that I didn’t continue fantasizing about where I’d stick my cash, but it was on a much grander, theoretical scale. Like the time my Kiwi girlfriend called up.

My lassie, my baby, my sweetheart, my Queenie said she’d just won the New Zealand lottery, Divison 2. $15,000. My sugar-momma! We talked purringly about all the debts she was going to pay off and what we could do with the remainder. I asked what Fiji was like this time of year. Me and her, we spent a lot of our time together dreaming of ways to spend money—what clothes we would replace, what car we would get, where we’d take a holiday, which restaurants we’d frequent, what we’d do with the future, dammit. It was such a fun game! What would you do with $15,000?

Like our role-playing, this fantasy was fleeting. The day after her big win, she rang, sounding a bit deflated. When she took her golden ticket to the lotto center, the machine said she’d only won $60. So convinced and happy at the time, she even confessed to going to the actual counter and telling the cashier that the machine might be broken. But: In her excitement over the first four winning lotto numbers, she’d completely ignored the final, incorrect digit. There have never been two people so disappointed at losing imaginary money. I certainly have never felt that way again—even when losing real money.

Present
For the first time in my life, I’m a waiter—a fine dining waiter, which means I’ve finally “made it” as a Struggling Writer. Financially, things aren’t looking too bad. With the influx of cash I’m paying off debts and trying to save. There’s this fascinating aspect of waiting where people tip you and you get to keep those tips. I leave work with a bulging wallet every night. A couple of years ago, I learned about “Makin’ it Raaaaain” from a fella who loves both rap music and skin clubs. He’d always stick out his left palm and make repeated brushing motions over it with his right. My friend is also the whitest Alabamian this side of a saltine cracker and his fondness and familiarity of strip joints took me by surprise the first time we went to one. I was awestruck by the casual way he extended his cash-filled hand toward the lady on stage and shook the green like a well-trained, barn-painting chimp.

Now that I have all this cash, I’m always tempted to try and make it precipitate. It looks like a lot of fun, even in the confines of one’s own room. But then I remember how badly I need every last dollar, and how much it’ll hurt bending my tired limbs to pick them all up.

On the ride home from work, I always stop by the all-night gas station. It’s just down the block from my old ‘hood. The lady working the register is nice as hell, and usually has good cracker music going (Dylan B-sides). There’s also a game right by the door, a “coin pusher.” It’s full of quarters teetering over two ledges, with a flat dredge at the end moving baaaack and foooorth, baaaack and foooorth. Just drop a quarter into the slot, and it’ll push the other quarters on the top level over the ledge to the second level, which, if done right, will drop more quarters into the little bin for you to collect.

It’s an incredibly fascinating and absolutely irresistible game, one that can be played by folks of any age. You just stick a coin into the machine’s gullet and hope a few more drop out the bottom. Your heart leaps when you hear the tin clink of quarters landing in the metal basket. Just don’t shake that money-maker. Giving the machine a healthy nudge is a no-no. It sets off an alarm. I am getting pretty damn good at it, even if there’s a chance I’ve lost more money on that game than I’ve won. But I really don’t care. It’s the most fun I’ve had playing with money in years.

Jeff Winkler is a freelancer in Arkansas. 

Jeff Winkler: I just sent a friend a check for $250  that I’ve owed for the past three years. He covered me for rent, and it’s weighed on me, no lie, each and every one of those 1,095 days. I just told my sister, “I’m broke because I paid my friend back $250.” Her immediate response was, “Oh man, I bet that felt good.” And it does!

‪Logan Sachon:‬ Is the friend someone you see often? 

‪JW: No, he’s in D.C. But even when I lived there, I actually … avoided him because I was so ashamed. The only word he had on the issue once was, “Dude, don’t worry, it’s cool. Let’s hang out more often.” Which, of course, made me feel even shittier.

‪LS:‬ You’re great. I’m proud of you.

JW: Thanks, I appreciate that, even though—if I may be so candid—it almost sounds like a fellow burn victim saying, “You have beautiful skin.”

LS: Oh, god.

‪JW‬: I remember the last time I had truly significant funds like one remembers their first kiss. Do you remember your first kiss and the last time you had a bunch of money?

‪LS: ‬I remember my first kiss, yes. I’ve never had a bunch of money. But I’ve always spent like I did! Ba-dum., etc.

JW: I just paid off a huge library fee, too. Paying that off is like going to confessional. Like Antonio Banderas in the El Mariachi church scene with the padre. Now that I’ve been absolved, I can go out sinnin’ again.

LS: You’re a good man, Winkler. GOOD MAN.

JW: Actually, no, I’m not. Because there’s a calculating psychology to it. With all my debts paid (by next week) I’m going to begin indignantly calling those publications that owe me a LOT of money for services rendered.

LS: NOT IT.

JW: And then I’ll buy a carton of cigarettes.

LS: Attaboy.

Jeff Winkler is a freelancer in Arkansas. 

$100! It is a lot of money, and yet, it is also not a lot of money at all. Where did your last hundred bucks go, Jeff Winkler?

$11: Brunch booze at cafe in New Orleans

$6: “Yankee Sandwich” at Angeli’s in New Orleans

$6: Shamrock bar in New Orleans

$3: Parking meter in New Orleans

$20: Pump-your-own-gas in Greenland, Ark.

$16.98: Beer, condoms and ciggies at local gas station.

$15.52: Tokyo Sushi … self explanatory. No sake.

$6.33: Ciggies

$5: 40 o.z. at local liquor store

$4.75: Ciggies

$4.32: Ciggies

($20): Borrowed from a friend to get drunk

Previously: Rachel Krantz

Jeff Winkler lives in Arkansas. Photo Credit: flickr/ella novak

Part I: The Basics

Jeff Winkler: So you’re a drug dealer?
Part-time Drug Dealer: Yes. [Sound of his lighter flicking].

What do you sell?
[Blows smoke] Marijuana.

That’s it?
Occasionally I arrange cocaine for friends. But I don’t really make money off of that. It’s basically an exchange.

How much money do you make a month selling weed?
There’s weeks I make $600 profit. But I’d say, on average, it’s about $1200 a month. $1200 is a good, rough figure.

And that’s after expenses? That’s profit?
That’s profit.

But you also have a job. You work for tips.
Yeah, I work for tips.

So how much do you make on tips?
I’d say about $600, $700 a week.

That’s more than you make selling drugs!
Well, I’m working a hell of a lot more than I am I’m when I’m selling. I’m spending far more time working than I am selling weed. I mean I spend probably about a quarter of the time selling weed.

[Giggling] A quarter of the time …
[Pause. An weary groan] A quarter of the time …

Why not just sell more drugs?
Because there has to be a demand for it and part of my philosophy in selling drugs is that I’m not going to actively seek it out. By actively seeking it out, you expose yourself to a greater risk of getting caught. If there’s ever a point I get enough business that I don’t have to work a [makes air-quotes] legitimate job, I will absolutely take that opportunity. The second I’m making $1000 a week just selling weed and not doing anything else but selling weed, I’m going to take that up.

How long have you been selling?
I started in 2006 and, like most other dealers, started by being a heavy user of the product. I realized that if I bought in bulk and sold some of it, then I could essentially smoke for free. I wasn’t making any money at first. It actually took up to this past year for me to begin seeing any kind of profit off of it. And it wasn’t until I curbed my own habit that I started to see that.

Is this like those rules you mentioned the other day?
That’s the Ten Crack Commandments, by Notorious BIG — “Don’t get high on your own supply.” That’s rule number … well, I can’t remember if that’s actually rule number one. But it should be number one. I actually had a girlfriend who gave me a really hard time about waking up in the morning and smoking weed and I kind of thought about it and realized that she was right. It was interfering with my legitimate source of income and my ability to perform a real job. Quote-unquote. And so I started curbing my intake. And now it’s getting to the point where, out of my own supply, I barely even smoke any. I actually have more than I know what to do with, in terms of personal use.

What about in terms of “business use,” how much do you sell?
I’m selling about a quarter pound at a time, about $1000. That’s what I buy. There are people who buy anywhere from a couple pounds to 20 pounds to a ton at a time. There’re differing scales of involvement. So I’m kind of lower on the ladder.

What’s the general going rate for weed?
Market prices vary per region. In this region, you’re looking at $50 dollars an eighth, $100 a quarter, $350 an ounce. Some people will give a break at half a quarter-pound, which is two ounces. But typically the next break isn’t until you buy a quarter pound, and then it kind of varies depending on the person who’s selling it to you. It’s sort of like cigarettes. You know, cigarettes vary from coast to coast. In Middle America, cigarettes are cheaper because people have less money.

That’s also taxes, too. So how do you decide what your taxes are when selling? How do you decide your mark-up price? If you’re selling an eighth, how much of that do you actually get?
You have to consider that in the region I’m operating in, the market’s kind of flooded. And in order to compete, I have to keep my prices pretty steady. So basically, clients and the market determines my rate and therefore determines my profit. My profits are also determined by the quantity I buy in. If I were to buy double the amount I’m buying right now, I would see a significant price decrease for myself, which means I’d see a greater increase in profit. Although it’s also determined by how quickly I can move it. It is an organic material, so it does decay over time. So it’s best if it has a certain level of freshness.

So how much “freshness” do you sell?
At this point, I’m probably moving about a quarter-pound every week or two.

Okay, the market controls your price. But going back, on an average $50/eighth, how much profit do you get?
On an eighth, I believe I make about $18. And if you factor in the amount of time it takes me to package and deliver that, you’re looking at no more than 15 to 30 minutes per transaction. So at worst, I’m making $18-a-half-hour. Realistically, the majority of that work is [chuckles] driving.

It kind of goes back to that old adage “time is money” and that was a hard lesson for me to learn because when I used to sell from my house, I’d have people come over and I would be a generous person and offer to smoke weed with them out of my own supply or maybe they’d want to load a bowl out of what they just bought. And so they’d end up staying for an hour. And while it was fun, it tied up an hour of my time that I could have been doing any number of other things.

So, learning that the quicker the you make a transaction, the more money you’re making was a valuable lesson for me. And ever since then, learning that lesson, learning that one lesson, I’ve been able to make a lot more money considering the time I’m spending.

Part II: The Customers

Do you sell to anyone?
I do not sell to underage. I try not even to sell to people under the age of 21. I’m discriminant. I have one customer that’s under 21, but that person is as loathsome of police as I am, so I’m not worried.

How many customers do you have on average?
[Blows out smoke real hard] Ten to a dozen. Good customers? Frequent customers? Four or five.

What’s frequent?
Everyday, every other day.

Buying how much?!?!
I have one customer who buys eighths or quarters every day. At market prices in this region that’s $50 and $100 dollars, respectively.

Uh … is he smoking it all?
Uh, SHE …

Sorry, I didn’t mean to be sexist!
She and her family smoke it. They split it. I believe it’s her and her father, her brother, her uncle. It’s basically a family of stoners. They were buying, up until recently, an eighth or a quarter every day, but they finally realized that buying in a greater quantity would beneficial for them, moneywise.

So they were giving you $350 a week? Right?
I would say it was actually much more than that because, more often than not, they were buying quarters. So I would say it was probably more like $500 a week. But now that they’re buying about an ounce at a time, it’s probably more like $350 a week. So she was my number one customer and still is, but now it’s more that’s she’s my number one customer in terms of quantity, not profit. Again, you have to consider that I’m actually a small fry in this world.

When dealing with “customers,” are you just always thinking in really economic terms then?
Very much so, actually. With most of my customers, once I get to wherever we’re meeting, it takes less than five minutes. I’m very economical when it comes to my transactions with my customers. At this point, there is one customer I will smoke with; a kid who I happen to see some qualities of myself. He seems to enjoy my company, and he’s also given me several clients. He’s actually given me my largest client and that’s about it. But he’s helped me out in other ways. So I’ll take the time.

And that’s sort of another thing. Occasionally, you have to play politics to groom people to get them to buy a little bit more. You sort of, like, … it’s mingling. You have to rub elbows a little bit. Or if someone is the type of customer that’s loyal and is going to buy frequently and they need that interaction, they need you to sort of engage them …

[Laughing]
Yeah, it’s hilarious. But it’s sadly true. Sometime you got to do that. You’ve got to play into it.

Into what, being The Dealer?
Being the dealer, you know, hanging around with them for a little bit, placating them, making them feel good about what they’re doing. Because you’d be surprised — some people have a little bit of guilt about spending money on this particular substance.

You said you once offered someone a “discount” price, which, quite frankly, sounded like a girl at a strip club tell me that her “real name is Jane.” So … were you lying?
I wasn’t lying. I actually gave a discount.

Was it good stuff?
It was good stuff. I’m frequently told that I have some of the better marijuana in the area. And I’m fortunate enough to catch a pretty good break with the quantity I’m buying. This is where politics kind of come into play. There are certain people you can get to buy off you by lowering the price. So I undercut market prices frequently with certain people to get them to buy more, or buy more frequently. If I know someone is not making a lot of money at their job and they like to smoke weed, I’ll say, “Hey, instead of you not buying from me, I’m going to give you $10 off this eighth and I’m going to charge you $40 because I can afford to and still make a profit. And you’re going to get weed and you’re going to buy it from me. And you’re going to probably buy it from me for as long as you live in the region.”

Do you ever front customers, or offer it on credit? Layaway?
I have some customers that I front, it’s usually close friends and sometimes it’s very good customers. If I have a customer that buys frequently, it’s essentially the “One Chance Rule.” I’m not going to front them a lot; I’ll front them a little. As long as they prove to me that they’re actually paying me back, I will front them again. I have a customer I front half an ounce to, at least once a week.

Does he pay you in installments then?
Uh, SHE …

Jesus Christ.
Yeah. And it’s a risk, but at the same time, it’s a very good customer and I have faith that they will return this money in full if they should ever decide to stop buying from me. And even if they don’t, it’s not the end of the world. It’s just going to cut into my profits briefly and I’m back.

And they’re done, too?
And they’re done, too. That’s the thing. The second anyone of those people who I do front to fucks me over, I’m done with them. I’m never going to talk to them ever again. They’re blacklisted immediately. I’m not going to fuck with that.

What’s the most you’ve ever made on a transaction?
I’d say about $200 off a transaction. I was selling two ounces. Again, you have to consider, I’m a small fry in this game. I’ve lived places where I’ve had various dealers, one of which was moving 20 to 25 pounds probably in a month. And that person one day went to pick up and all of a sudden the DEA was in his face with guns and arrested him. I don’t really think that’s going to be me. But who knows? Maybe one day. I actually learned a lot about how to operate this business from him.

Part III: Money to Spend

So you’ve experienced dry times and boon times, supply and demand—do you plan financially for that?
The medical marijuana in California has now made it possible for most of the country to see a pretty steady supply. To give you an example, in this area, I’ve been dealing roughly nine months, and winter is typically when it will dry out sometimes. But my supply has been so consistent, it’s been the most consistent supply I’ve ever had. Well, second-most consistent, but nonetheless, it’s been very consistent. I haven’t had to worry about that at all.

And, fortunately, I have that other job, so I don’t have to plan for that all that much. To me, this is just something I do to make a little extra money and to provide a service that I think should be provided legally …

So you’re crusading?
I’m not crusading. I’m not even political about it. It just harkens back to prohibition times where we thought outlawing alcohol was going to decrease the number of drunks in the nation and it didn’t work. It led to speakeasies, where people were selling alcohol in dark rooms with metal doors and small slits in them. It’s sort of like smoking cigarettes. You’re saying you don’t want people to smoke cigarettes so you ban ashtrays? It doesn’t really work that way.

So as long as it’s illegal, I’m probably going to take advantage of it,  (A) Because I don’t think it should be illegal and it’s my small way of sticking it to the man without doing a whole lot while still making money and, (B) it’s kinda fun, I gotta say.

There sort of a romanticism about it, much like bootlegging. You’re running drugs, you know. You’re doing something illegal and you’re getting away with it. And profiting from getting away with it.

So do you plan at all, financial, for business liabilities, like, getting busted?
At this point in time, I’m not too concerned with legal repercussions. I don’t think I’m going to get nailed with anything anytime soon. I’m pretty smart with how I go about doing my business. In the event that I start moving a serious quantity, I’m definitely probably going to set up some sort of plan for that in the way of saving money for a lawyer, finding a lawyer.

A retainer?
Yeah, a retainer.

Wait, so you’re thinking about upping?
I mean, the name of the game is always upping. Like I said, if I can make enough money doing this that I don’t have to hold down a legitimate job then, hell, I’ll give that job up in a heartbeat.

So what are you looking at in terms of what goes into upping. You said, getting a lawyer … those are costs, too. Are there any other costs you may see if you decide to up?
Honestly, in terms of the big picture, no, that’s about it. The liability is pretty low. I mean, I’d say up until you get busted, the only expenses you’re looking at is a scale and bags. And then the money to purchase the product, which is obviously the biggest part of it.

So you invest at first and hope it comes back?
You kind of look at the investment as, I look at it as a saving account, essentially. Say I want to move away from this area, all I have to do is sell out and then not resupply and I’m X dollars richer.

Do you keep your drug finances separate from your other finances? Do you keep that in a different spot? Do you keep records?
I don’t keep records, I don’t really believe in keeping records. I’m not really at a point that I need to keep records. I know people that do. I keep my money, for the most part, separate. I do occasionally skim the profit off the top, essentially, just so I can have some spending money.

So you put that drug money in a different spot? You keep it separate from the work money?
Yeah. This is very ghetto but essentially I keep my legitimate income in my wallet and any money I make off of this I put in my left front pocket. So when I go home at the end of the night, I know I have money in my left front pocket that I know goes to where I keep my money for this “job,” and I have my own money in my wallet.

Does all that money from the drug dealing go to one spot?
Essentially, yes. I do occasionally deposit some of it into a bank if need be. But the need isn’t always there. Sometimes it’s a trust issue with myself. The temptation to take your profit and spend your profit is pretty high, at least for me. So sometimes, it’s easier for me to put it in a bank account that I don’t carry the debit card with and it just stays there.

How much do you have from selling drugs right now?
Honestly, not very much. I just lost a job, recently, so I had to kind of sustain myself off of this, which, as long as you’re not dipping into your resupply fund, then you’re perfectly fine.

So your resupply fund is also with the other drug money?
Yeah, basically, I know what I make off any given sale and if I’m hard up for cash–say I’m out of a job and sell a bag–I know exactly how much money I can take out of that and still have enough to get more.

So how much do you have from drug dealing?
Well, I mean, I have enough to buy a quarter pound after I’ve sold about three quarters of that.

I guess I mean, how much money available, because we’re talking about money. How much money do you have right now?
Right now? I haven’t counted it. See that’s the thing. When I have a legitimate source of income, I don’t even consider what I’m making off of it. It’s just sort of there.

Don’t you think that’s maybe not helpful in terms of maybe wanting to, you know, expand, or get out and move somewhere else.
Well, like I said, I have my retainer, and I know if I wanted to close out I have X number of dollars.

Maybe I don’t know what you mean by retainer.
Like you said, your legal retainer. So I have X number of dollars on hand so that I can buy another round.

How much is that?
I … I don’t want to say.

But we’re talking about mone—
Sixteen hundred and ninety dollars. I’m looking at about a $1690 right now. The thing is, I don’t have to take into account bumping up because I have the type of relationship with my dealer, if I wanted more he’d front it to me.

What do you buy with your drug profits?
Well, it depends on where I’m at in my life. If I just need money to survive on, then I’m using it to survive. If I need it for luxuries or commodities then I use it for that. It’s basically, like, I make the money, and I spend it almost as soon as I have it, which is not a good business practice. But I am militant enough that I can always have what I need to get more.

It sounds almost like you’re basically living paycheck-to-paycheck.
Yeah, essentially it is the same as living paycheck-to-paycheck, which is sort of a sad fact and kind of why I’m doing this in the first place, because you know what, paycheck-to-paycheck isn’t enough anymore. I know so many people who live paycheck-to-paycheck and they can’t afford any sort of luxury for themselves because of that. And this is a way I can afford small luxuries for myself.

Essentially, I get to pay my bills and then I have a little extra money that I can get drunk tonight or whatever I want. When I’m at bars, I’m not drinking domestic beers, standard beers, I’m drinking more expensive beers. I can afford those sort of small luxuries for myself. If I want to go out to eat, I can go out to eat, and I don’t have to worry about those things. If I need a new pair of shoes, I can get a new pair of shoes. If I need any number of things that are modest and reasonable, I can afford them and know that I will be able to pay rent the next month and will be able to pay bills next month.

So nothing big, expensive or excessive?
Not too often. It’s more like nickel and dime things. It’s the small things that make it worth my while. It’s sort of … I don’t know … my customers, they’re connoisseurs of weed. I’m not. I don’t give a fuck. I don’t give a fuck about what strain it is. I don’t give a fuck if it’s sativa or indica. That shit doesn’t matter to me. What matters to me is the money. I enjoy smoking weed, I don’t enjoy it as much as I used to. I don’t do it as often.

What’s often?
I mean at this point my habit’s once every three days. I’m not much of a stoner. I’m much more of an alcoholic and a cigarette addict and I enjoy the finer aspects of those habits. They’re fortunately legal, so it’s a little bit easier.

Are you thinking about getting out? You’re obviously thinking about keeping it going.
I’m not thinking about getting out anytime soon. It’s something that I have no fear of being caught any time soon and if I do it’s not going to be any more than a slap on the wrist. Unless I get caught on a resupply, which would be a felony. But, you know what? Sadly, I’m white. I’m probably not going to spend much time in jail for a first offense.

Would you ever consider bringing in a “shadow partner” into your business venture then?
Oh, Absolutely! I mean, I’m waiting for someone to show an interest in it. I’ve talked to a couple of my customers and even did a trial run with one. She came back and said she didn’t think she could handle it. And the other said he was interested, it would jsut be a matter of getting the money together. I’m still waiting to hear back from him.

So is this franchises, or, just expanding the business?
I wouldn’t think of it as franchising so much as it is a pyramid scheme.

Jeff Winkler is a journalist who believes that dealing drugs is more respectable than his own profession. Photo Credit: flickr/ Joel Olives