Read Online All or Nothing by Jesse Schenker - Free Book Online Page A

this was not cocaine.
    Sometimes we’d set each other up in the employee bathroom, setting lines of cocaine or OC up for each other under the toilet paper roll. Every night we made the same pledge that we weren’t going to do it again the next day because we didn’t want to get hooked, but inevitably by the end of the night we’d look at each other and say, “Fuck it.” We had to score. We were a terrible influence on each other. Once we decided to get high, we’d call Jordan from the office phone at Smith’s. “I’m going to sleep in twenty minutes,” he’d tell us. “Be here by then.” We knew he meant it. If we didn’t get there in time, he’d lock the door and ignore the sound of us pounding on it. So we’d throw the phone down, change our clothes, and then speed to Jordan’s house, weaving in and out of traffic just to get there in time. One time I was rushing so fast to get to Jordan’s that I hit the median and cracked my fender. But that didn’t bother me. I just kept driving.

Pickle
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    Pickle : To preserve food by anaerobic fermentation in brine or vinegar. This procedure gives the resulting food, called a pickle, a salty or sour taste.
    G oing to culinary school in the morning and working at the restaurant at night left plenty of hours in the day for me to fill. I started spending more time with friends who shared what was at this point my main interest: pills. My buddy Fred got on the Oxy Train pretty fast. It didn’t take much to get him to try what I considered a life-changing pill. Fred had a neighbor named Skyler who dabbled in some not-so-kosher shit. Skyler told us to check out a guy named Phil. We went through Fred’s stepdad’s change collection, filled a few socks with quarters, and took them to the change machine at Albertson’s. Then we went to meet the dope dealer.
    Phil worked at a jewelry store in Pompano Beach that was basically right down the street from Smith’s. I went into the shop and asked for Phil. He immediately led me into a back room where customers weren’t normally allowed. “You know Skyler?” he asked me.
    â€œYeah,” I replied. “What do you have?”
    Phil grabbed a backpack and dumped dozens of bags full of pills onto a table. He didn’t have any Oxys, but there was more than enough Percocet, Darvocet, and Vicodin to keep Fred and me occupied for a while. I took whatever I could get with the money I had and went on my way.
    Now that I had my GED, Fred and I started making plans to go on a three-week trip to Europe. I had been to Europe a few times with my family as a kid, but I’d never really traveled without them. Since neither of us was attending college, Fred and I saw this trip as our own warped version of a semester abroad. Our parents spoke to one another and came up with a plan. Fred’s parents bought the Eurail passes, and my parents bought the plane tickets. My dad gave me a credit card for emergencies. At home my parents paid for everything. I didn’t have to worry about things like rent, insurance, or paying for a car or gas. When I needed money for drugs, I milked my dad into giving me fifty or a hundred bucks. I supplemented this with the money I made working, but was still able to save quite a bit.
    I took a few weeks off work, Fred and I scored a bunch of Oxys for the plane ride, and we were off. The trip to Europe came together within weeks of us voicing our desire to do it. We didn’t have any plans other than working our way south so we would make it to Madrid three weeks later to catch a flight home. Until then, we were free, and we landed in London feeling like we owned Europe. We took the Chunnel to Holland, but by the time we arrived in Rotterdam we were already out of drugs and dope-sick. We figured Amsterdam would be the best place to score, so we made our way to the city’s infamous red light district. A