Blown

I'm going to do something a little different today. I'm sure you tire from my countless rants about living the dream and blah blah blah. Anyway, aside from ranting I have also been working on a novel for about a year. I'm about 2/3 of the way done, I may have gotten drunk at some point or another and told you about it and maybe you were, maybe you weren't interested.

The premise is that a frat house mom is a drug dealer to pay off her dead husband's medical bills and the President and Treasurer of the frat let it happen as long as they can split some of the profits to help buff up the fledgling social fund. I decided to post a random chapter for your enjoyment, perhaps you will be interested and ask me to send you the finished copy when I'm done. Perhaps you will see that it still uses a lot of f words and takes place in college and you will think I am one dimensional, or maybe you will give me an idea that I will end up using and then I will give you special thanks on the back cover.

This is Chapter 14, John, the President is shopping for the party booze with his good friend David. He is shooting the shit with his buddy while they pick up party supplies, but also for the first time, trying to rationalize the actions that he is taking, enjoy!

I always enjoyed going to the liquor store with a a few thousand dollars and a shopping cart. In the past it was always house money, I would go with David and maybe another senior to pick up the party booze. Back then it was a bit scandalous, we were using money that we had technically laundered through sludge funds, but no one really cared. It was just a routine one had to go through when having an illegal fraternity party. Technically it wasn’t illegal to have a party, just to serve alcohol. But you would have to be pretty naive to think that a frat was spending $5000 on party decorations.

We had shelled out more than usual on decorations for the Fall formal, it wasn’t just a party after all, it was a date function. Usually it was more important to impress the girl you were banging consistently more than a handful of Freshman sluts. We filled the courtyard with sand and a pool, and we actually got a dj instead of throwing on an iPod with a playlist...the dj was always a waste anyway because that’s what he did, brought his itunes library and pressed play, whatever it looked legit.

That left us three grand for liquor and chasers...very little beer necesary at a date party. 100 guys in the house, a date for each, thats 200 people, which means we’ll need 50 handles and about 20 boxes of wine. 20 should be vodka, 10 rum, 5 whiskey, 5 gin, 5 jager, 5 whatever. and then just a ton of 2 litres. There are people that live in poverty all over the world and we just spent $2992.68 on booze.

Well that’s how it usually felt. This time it was drug money, we had accepted the advance from our senile old house mom who was selling cocaine, and I had gone along with it because I didn’t want to let me friends down.

It had been a few days and I had largely avoided Irma. It was now Thursday and I hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary. I had vague knowledge of how her operation was working, but I thought it best not to ask questions. Our arrangement was more or less that we got a cut of her profits for allowing her to use our house as her base of operation. At the beginning of each week Irma would give me our cut during our weekly meeting in which we went over house matters. I suppose this was a house matter, we are supporting the bleeding finances of our social fund with drug money.

We also agreed that if I ever had to answer to anyone on our housing corp or with the university about our new influx of money, we had to come up with a long term plan. Anonymous alumni donations could work for a temporary fix, but at some point that would raise questions from the board. The university would probably leave us alone as long as we weren’t stupid, but the house would surely want that alumni money going somewhere other than straight to our pockets. I had to come up with an excuse fast.

In the mean time, I managed to get Meg to come to formal with me. I had decided that at least for a while, I wanted to keep her close to the vest. She was really the only one that knew our secret and if I dispatched of her too quickly, she could bring this whole operation down. I did kind of like her too, so I didn’t mind bringing her to the dance, however we both agreed the office was off limits.

David was busy trying to convince me that this whole thing wasn’t a big deal at all. There were rumors of cocaine dealers in every fraternity on campus, and most of the rumors were probably true. Even though there were big players out there moving pretty solid weight none of them seemed to ever go down.

“Who would believe that our house mom is selling blow? It’s propostrous. All the Long Island jews are much more likely to be doing that shit, and they’re also selling molly, tree, probably ghb so they can get eachother laid, we’ll be fine.” He would say.

It was a ridiculous thought, and if one of the campus dealers were going to go down it would probably be someone who was doing it bigger and had been doing it longer. Another thing we had going for us was that no one else in the house knew what was going on. Most fraternity drug dealers started by dealing inside the house and then eventually started compromising their morals and going on the outside, by then everyone knew. But, no one except David and me knew what was going on here. Heck we didn’t even know how it worked, I knew here drugged out grandson was involved somehow. Maybe Irma’s target market would be the high school kids or townies.
20 frats on campus, at least one dealer in all of them, plus the dorms and the countless gdi’s all over town. Maybe this wasn’t that big of a deal. Plus, they never go after the small dealers, it’s about following it up. The entire police force would go broke if they chased around every guy that had sold a couple bags.

My favorite part of buying all the booze for the party was the fact that you had to act like a spy on the way back. The don’t ask, don’t tell policy with the police and greek boozing was to keep it out of sight. That said, if you parked in the lot in front of the house and just paraded alcohol inside for 10 minutes, they were likely to say something. A few years ago some cowboy cops started checking SUVs with Greek decals to see if they were riding low. If they were they would assume that there were a lot of cases in the back and pull the guys over for some bullshit like speeding or a tail light. Then once they saw the booze, it was over. For this reason we had to take a back way to the house and if we had a tail, lose it before we got home, then we would call ahead and have the courtyard opened, pull the vehicle inside and shut the courtyard gate, it’s like being the Jason Bourne of partying.