Dating a drug dealer
As we were driving around, he was still fidgeting with everything. He told me they were Valiums, and then, he gave me one and told me to take it and that it would help me relax.
By the time he was 16, he was dating the mayor of Detroit's beautiful niece. He had also been recruited as one of the DEA's prized confidential informants two years earlier, when he was 14.
According to Wershe, a federal narcotics task force consisting of officers from the Detroit Police Department, the FBI and the DEA pushed him into the role of drug lord and played up his image.
Reading that, I can’t believe how cliché it all seems. I tried the “I couldn’t handle it if you went to jail” angle, as well as the “I hate your asshole friends” angle. It was one of our good days; quiet, silence enveloping us, comfortable.
And I guess it was; textbook smart-nerdy-girl gets seduced by the “dark” side. What I saw was a sweet guy, in touch with his emotions, trying to kick a bad habit. The troubles started when he got his own apartment. I think we were talking about our feelings for each other, something we hardly ever did.
I should’ve really thought long and hard about the “possessive” and “volatile” thing.
But I didn’t, and there he was: A boyfriend with a car, tattoos, and a penchant for weed. The power dynamics in that relationship were so screwed up, I felt like I didn’t have a right to voice my worries. I wrote him countless letters, explaining how wrong I thought this whole thing was under many angles. We were laying on his dusty folded up futon, the ceiling fan blowing hair in my face.
Sure it's thrilling and the money is nothing to complain about, but it comes at a price.
Your partner could get caught at any time, or worse, hurt on the job.
"They turned me into an urban legend," Rick says from a payphone at the Oaks Correctional Facility, near the eastern shore of Lake Michigan."I was just a kid when the agents pulled me out of high school in the ninth grade and had me out to three in the morning every night.
They gave me a fake ID when I was 15 that said I was 21 so I could travel to Vegas and to Miami to do drug deals." Rick ended his relationship with authorities after serving two years as an informant.
I agreed to let him drive me around town, and as soon as he put his car in gear, he flat-out asked me what kind of drugs I did.