Dope

By Kevin Grose

Can one truly escape from dark pleasures so overwhelming, intensely satisfying, yet deeply destroying, death becomes a long-wished-for relief? Moving beyond a moment in time riddled with lost hopes and broken dreams is never easy. Gripped in the hazy, clingy, and strong claws of addiction, Kevin Grose wallows in the dirty yet high-profit business of selling illegal drugs. He excels in it. He willingly sells his soul for it. Understand his journey as he reaches the highest highs then plunges to t

• Language: English
• Publisher: Page Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 1, 2014
• ISBN: 9781634170550

Book preview

PREFACE

If you look in Webster’s New World Dictionary for the meaning DOPE, the first meaning is narcotic or drug. The second meaning is a stupid or ignorant person. The street meaning for the word DOPE is cool or badass. You could say at one point in my life I was all of the above. This is a true story about my life in the drug world that I had experienced from the start to the end. I’m not here to glorify the use of drugs or the selling of drugs, even though at times it may seem that way. There have been a lot of people that have probably experienced and seen a lot of the same shit that I have, but are they alive to tell about their lives in this living hell? I did not sugarcoat or cut any corners. This book is very raw and has some very graphic material in it. Maybe too graphic for some people. In the early eighties, it mainly focused on the Dallas, Texas, area. This is when Texas was the methamphetamine capital in the United States. If you were getting the strongest and most powerful meth through north Texas, I can almost promise it was going through my hands before it hit your veins.

I have shared a few experiences that I have had throughout my years in the DOPE world with people that I know and trust, and every one of them has said you need to write a book and tell the world about these experiences and let them know just how easy it is to fall into this world. I have lost a few good friends throughout my years of dealing and doing DOPE. I hope everyone who reads this book takes to heart to what I am going to tell you, especially you young people. It is a very cruel world when you fall into it, and for some people, there is no escape, only death. Just remember you are not only hurting yourself but also the people who love you. Believe me, I know. This book was not written to incriminate or embarrass anyone. Some of the names were changed just for that reason.

In memory of

David DAMAGE Johnson

RIP

CHAPTER ONE

THE BEGINNING

My name is Kevin Grose. I grew up in a little town in the state of Utah. In a fucked-up little town called Clinton. It was a little boring town with not much to do. I grew up in a family with two brothers and one sister and a mom and dad who did everything they could possibly do for us to live a normal life. But to tell you the truth, there was nothing really normal about it. I can honestly say my problems actually started when I was about in second grade, maybe third, when I would spend the night at my grandparents’ house and my uncle who now works for the Davis County Sheriff’s Department used to molest me. At night when everyone was in bed, he would crawl in my bed and fondle. He would also insist on taking baths with me and play with himself while he touched me. At that age, you don’t know what to say or do. But his day will come, and is he ever going to regret it. I’m not saying that every person out there took this avenue as I did to try to escape these memories, but who knows. Maybe some of you just buried your heads in the sand hoping it would pass, but it never did. Maybe some of you turned into mass murderers and went crazy and walked into malls or schools and killed a bunch of innocent people then took your own life to forget it. There ain’t no telling. All I know is that you know who you are, motherfucker, now everyone knows who you are. I don’t give a shit if you were married in the fucking Mormon temple. Your day has come, and everyone in our family knows who you are. They might all be pissed at me, but I don’t give a fuck. No one cared about what happened to me, so why should I care what happens to you. I never have told my mom or my dad who has passed away since then about what had happened because to tell you the truth I don’t think they would have believed me. But I am telling you now it happened. Maybe that is why I turned out the way I did. I am not sure. Maybe that is why I hold anger inside, who knows. Or maybe that is why I turned out to be the son of a bitch that I was. But let’s get this shit started, and hold on because you are in for a ride.

I and my friends used to hang around where there was a lot of construction work going on and smoke cigarettes. We would vandalize these houses that were being built. Like break out windows, kick in sheet, rock walls—things that normal bored kids would do for entertainment. One day, while we were all down there, one of my brother’s friends pulled out a joint and asked if we wanted to smoke it. I had never smoked pot before, so it kind of freaked me out. Everyone said sure. I went along with it and said sure. To tell you the truth, the shit didn’t do nothing to me but put a bad taste in my mouth, but I went along with it. The first thing I thought of was what if my mom smelled the shit on us. So we being the brain surgeons that we all thought we were decided to wipe dirt all over us. But believe it or not, it worked. As time went on, I experimented with it a little more, but I just couldn’t understand what people got out of it. But came to find out, I saw how it affected different people in different ways. We had a neighbor girl who lived up the street from us. Her name was Holly. She was in the tenth grade. There were times when my parents would have her watch us when they would go out. The first thing she would do after they left was send me and my sister downstairs while she went outside and got stoned. After she came back, she would tell me to come upstairs and leave my sister downstairs. She always used to tell me how cute I was, but I didn’t think much of it until one day while I was up there with her and she asked me if I had ever seen a girl’s breast. I said yeah but only in a magazine. Then out of the blue, she asked me if I wanted to see hers. I said sure. So she pulls up her shirt, and there they were, the finest tits I have ever seen. All she did was smile; then she said, Don’t be scared, you can touch them. Well, one thing led to another. Next thing I knew my mouth was sucking on them, and she was holding the back of my head pushing my face into them. I was in fucking paradise. I started looking forward to my parents going out. So I thought to myself, Well, there’s one good thing about smoking pot, it made girls horny. Things were starting to look up, and junior high school was just around the corner. A couple years after that, Holly got into an incident. She got killed in a motorcycle accident. God rest her soul. I will never forget her. How could I?

One good thing about having older brothers, they pretty much paved the way for me. Because they all had friends who had brothers, so all you really did is fall into place. They were party monsters, so everyone expected you to be the same way. By the first year in junior high, we pretty much had our own little clique going on. We would come home from school so stoned and red-eyed. Mom didn’t have a clue. I always told her it was my allergies. She didn’t know any better. My mom and my dad did the best they could on raising me. All the bad decisions that I made were my own. And believe me, I made a bunch of them.

Junior high was a blast. Like I said, our brothers pretty much paved the way for us. The eighth and ninth pretty much knew not to fuck with us because they all knew our brothers who at that time were getting quite the reputation of being motherfuckers. It seemed like the older we got, the better and stronger the pot had gotten. So the better you had, the hotter the chick you would get. I’ll never forget this chick named Pat. Anyway back in those days, chicks were practically flat-chested. I mean no tits for shit except for her, and guess who ended up with her? Me. She was the hottest little Mexican chick that you could possibly want. My very first, honest to God, fuck. One night she had a party at her house, and the cops came and busted it. Well, shit, we were all underage, so out the door we went. We were so fucked up we ended up lying face first in a cemetery covered in stickers and dirt. As we lay there (me and Bobby), the cops were cruising by with their spotlights shining looking for us. But no luck, we got away. Would it be the last time? Hell no. It started to become a weekly thing. We were pretty slick for being so young. We got to the point where we knew all the shortcuts home. I guess you could say junior high was basically all fun and games. I learned a little bit through those years, but now it’s time to get serious. High school is just around the corner, so let’s be a bit more serious about the shit and how the downward spiral started.

CHAPTER TWO

LET’S ROLL

Clearfield High School. The Clearfield Falcons. Here come the harder drugs, pain, and insanity. Here is where it basically all started. Before I got to Clearfield, people basically knew of the reputation that followed and the people I ran with. They knew my older brothers. By then my oldest brother Randy was in the service. Darren was a year older than me. Then there was me pushing up the back of the pack. High school was nothing but a big party. Sure I kept my grades up so Mom wouldn’t get on my ass. But we would get stoned before school, during school, and after school. In high school, there were three classes of people—the jocks, the rednecks, and the parking lot crew. Guess which one I belonged to? Not too hard to figure out. During assemblies, instead of going to them, we would all pile up in cars and head to a place that we called Reefer Road. It was a place out in the middle of nowhere, so you could see in all directions in case the cops would try to bust you. But it never happened.

My brother Darren had a 1968 mustang fast back. You talk about a car that would kick some ass. This motherfucker would. Anyway one day after we all got back from getting stoned, my friends came up to me and told me what had happened to Darren and a couple of other people. They were all fucked up, and Darren had lost control of his car and crashed. I freaked out. I couldn’t believe it. Not only that, but also my oldest brother Randy got busted over in Korea for selling speed. I had no idea what the fuck that shit was. Anyway, the law gave Darren a choice. It was either going into the army or go to jail for what he did. So off to the service he went, leaving just me.

So now it was just me and my clique of party monsters. And my god, were we ever monsters. When there was a party, we were there, and when we showed up, there was either a big fight, or when we left the party, we would end up taking the chicks with us. My friend Ryan and I had a game going on of who would end up getting fucked the most, and to tell you the truth, we both lost count. But I think Ryan had me beat but not by much. All the other guys would get so fucked up they couldn’t care less if they got laid or not. It was pretty strange. All through school, none of us got busted at all, and I mean not at all, except Darren. We practically had no fear in what we were doing. But the thing is, we weren’t really dealing a bunch of dope or anything. I mean a bag here or there, but we were not in it for the money, at least not yet. It was all for fun, and boy was it fun. We all started to experiment with everything from angel dust to acid, even connubial (embalming fluid). You know that stuff that they put in dead people. I started to notice as we went from party to party every weekend, the people who were actually bringing the drugs to these parties were making all this money and hanging with the hottest chicks. I thought, Man, that would be pretty cool to be doing that, but just didn’t quite have the balls or should I say the money to start doing that. All I really needed was a break to start, and little did I know it was just around the corner.

Well, we finally got out of high school and added a couple of people to the clique. The complete puzzle was starting to come together. It was time to get a regular job, and the best place to go was a place called the Freeport Center. It was the industrial job center where you could get a job doing practically anything. All it basically was, was a way to meet more dopeheads. By then my hair was practically down to my ass, a perfect look to be a dopehead or partier, and that was exactly what I was. I got a job at a place where they manufactured aluminum siding, and that was where I met a guy named Jesse, and my life would change forever. We would periodically bullshit during work, and it got to the point where we would start talking about drugs. During break and lunch, we started getting stoned; then he pulled out a little bag of what came to be COCAINE. He asked me if I wanted some. I said, Sure, why not. I have to say that it was the shit. I started buying small quantities and taking it to parties, and when people started hearing about it, they all wanted some. As I talked to Jesse more about the cocaine, I found out his brother was flying to Florida and picking this shit up. So by the time Jesse got his hands on it, it was pretty much pure. So I and a couple of my homeboys started putting some money together and bought more and started taking it to these parties and starting selling it. We were making a little money plus doing it and turning chicks on to it. Then I put two and two together and said, Fuck it, I’m going to start investing my whole check on it and go to parties, and when people would see me come in, they started flocking to me to score. So I started to roll in the dope, the money, and the chicks. Jesse would come with me to these parties but would just hang back and watch me operate. He didn’t want the attention. Well, hell, why should he. He was making the money off me that I was making off all these other people. I and Jesse became quite close. He was happy with the way things were going between me and him and the business we were forming. It was starting to get to the point where everyone wanted to know who my connection was, even my own brother. Did I let them in on it? Hell no, I wasn’t about to say a word. Then Randy finally got out of the service. It was great to see him; then he started to see what was going on with the cocaine. He wanted a piece of the action, and what really pissed both of my brothers was that they had to go through me to score it. I had the best connection on this shit, and they wanted in. They started talking to people who also knew of Jesse, and on down the line they got to him. Things started to get out of control a bit. While dealing this shit, you got to a point to where you started meeting people who sold different things. Some people it was pot. Others it was speed (black beauties). Some people it was PCP, angel dust. Anything and everything it was right there for the taking. Darren and I were selling this shit right out of my mom’s house, and she didn’t even seem to have a clue of what was going on. I mean cars were almost lined up and down the street, and people were coming in and out scoring and leaving. All she would say is Boy you guys sure have a lot of friends. Chicks would come in three at a time, and as they would leave, I would more or less hug them all, and Mom would ask me, Which one is your girlfriend? and I would say all of them and just smile and go downstairs.

My first major downfall happened one night. Mom and Dad took off for the weekend, and they said no parties. Yea right. Anyway I snorted the fuck out of a bunch of cocaine, took a bunch of speed, smoked the shit out of a bunch of badass weed, drank tons of beer. Next thing I knew I was in the shower with my brother and a couple chicks sitting there staring at me. I had no idea what an overdose actually felt like, but I learned that night. No one could believe how much shit I did that night. I thought I was untouchable. Little did I know how close I came to death. Did it slow me down? Hell no. All it did was let me know how much my body could take before it broke down and said that’s enough. Getting busted was the last thing on our minds, and the funny thing about it was you never heard of anyone getting busted, and that just kept you going. We were the shit. If you were getting the good dope, it came from our clique. It was always there and always good. Everything was so smooth for the longest time. Plenty of clientele kept everything going so good. Sure we had some crazy shit happen. One night at Ryan’s, it was New Year’s Eve, and he was having a party. I’m not sure who had it, but it was crystal THC. Never heard of it. I didn’t have a clue what the shit could do to you, but I soon found out. All I snorted was a line about as long as your fingernail. Next thing I knew, the fucking walls were actually melting just like on the cop show Dragnet that used to be on television when we were young. It would show all those hippies going wow man, what a trip when all they were doing was smoking pot. Anyway I told Fish (another guy I used to run with), Man, we have to get the fuck out of here. I am tripping way too hard. So we got in my car and stated driving. Next thing I knew he was smacking me on the side of my head and told to pull over. I said why. He said, You are driving down the middle of the island that divides the highway. I had no clue what this shit could do, and I went and tried it anyway. What a dumbass. Angel dust, the first and only time I did it was at Antelope Island. I and Darren and a few guys we ran with all decided that we would go do some and trip at the island. From what I was told, it was like acid but just a bit stronger. What a crock of shit. We snorted it and went wandering around on these cliffs. It first started out as an acid trip but soon got more intense. We climbed up on these boulders to smoke a joint, and the trip really started. After we smoked it, the shit kicked in hard. I looked down over the boulder that we were all sitting on, and it looked as though we were miles above the ground. As we sat there, it started to rain, and as I looked above us, the highway was up about thirty miles. At least that was what it seemed like. There was a line of people, probably tourists, looking down over the edge at us. Everyone was laughing at the situation. I was scared to death. I didn’t dare move for fear of falling to my death. That was the last thing I remember. For about two hours, I was sitting on top of that boulder. Next thing I knew we were halfway home coming back from Antelope Island, and I could swear we were still sitting on that fucking boulder. From that point on, I started to get a little smarter on what I put in my body. So from then on, I stuck with the shit that I knew a little bit about. I didn’t even like doing acid anymore. I had no control over myself when I did that kind of shit. Now when I did cocaine, I knew everything that was going on. So I basically stayed with that. Cocaine was my choice of drug from there on out. I could do it all night. Make money and fuck all night totally controlled. One night we all headed to this keg party. John, Joe, his girlfriend, and I went in Joe’s car. We were drinking hard and doing plenty of cocaine. Joe got fucked up and left early. So that left John and me. I started hitting on this one bitch just to get a ride out of there. The party was busting up, so it was time to roll. So she said she would take John and me over to Randy’s house. It was the closest place to go. So the bitch said she would. So it was like we sat outside waiting for her friend, and it had been about fifteen minutes. Then she said she would go in and come right back out. So John and I sat there for about another fifteen minutes. I said fuck it and jumped into the driver’s seat and took off. John freaked out but got over it and started laughing. Fuck it, we were wasted and didn’t give a fuck. We made a big mistake. Two days later, we were being arrested for car theft. But they called it joyriding, so it was a misdemeanor. It was more or less a slap on the hands. Through this time, I went through a couple of jobs, and things were feeling strange. Down inside something said it was time to get the fuck out of the state. For the first time, I really felt heat. I mean things had been more than less easy to deal with until one night Joe and I went out to see a hockey game. He said he knew some people who wanted to score some cocaine. So we went and met them, came to find out Joe had never met these fucks. He said they were a friend of a friend that he worked with. We just sold cocaine to undercover cops. What a fucking dumbass. Something said it was time to roll. I had a chance to go to Texas and move in with my stepmom Mary. She said she could get me a job working on aircrafts. And my real dad worked there also. He was a big shot. So it was a chance for another escape. Like I said, things were getting pretty hot. I’m glad I left because the cops came to my mom’s door looking for me for distribution of cocaine. But the fucks never caught me. I was on my way to the state of Texas. The major problem was that I was taking a very expensive habit with me. I was a cocaine addict.

CHAPTER THREE

TEXAS

So I off to Texas. My drug habit and I. Shit, I was snorting cocaine in the bathroom on the plane. It was a habit that I wasn’t just going to give up. My stepmother, one of the nicest and most generous people that you will ever meet, let me come there and move in with her and three sisters and two brothers, all younger than me. I can honestly say I looked practically like a rock star. I mean I had this badass long blond hair that almost reached my ass. People would just stare at me. It kind of freaked me out at times, but I guess in a small town like Greenville I should have expected it. Fuck, all I saw were dudes that were rednecks. All these guys had short hair and wore cowboy hats. Well, not all of them, but the biggest part of them did. My stepmom and my dad both worked at a place called E Systems. It was a place where people worked on aircrafts that belonged to the United States Air Force. I was slick enough to pass the drug test. Things were going pretty good. But I stayed by my drugs and didn’t bother anyone. John would send me an eight ball of cocaine a week and always right on time, and also weed when I would ask for it. No matter where I went, people would just stare. But the best thing about it was the chicks would too. And believe me, for a small town, it was packed with hot chicks. After being there for about a month and doing nothing but working and hanging around the house, my stepmom said it was time that I got out and started meeting people. This town was so small that there was only one club, and you had to have a membership to get into it. I didn’t, but she did. It was kind of a town that if you were anybody in that town, you had to hang at this club. So off I went. She let me borrow her membership card to get in. Well, I guess I got there a little early because as I walked in there, I saw about three people. All these people were rednecks, and all they were playing was country music. I went in the bathroom and did a big fat line of cocaine and came out smiling. They just stared. So I went and sat at a booth. Hell, why not, there was no one there. Well, it started to slowly fill up with people, and the music changed a little bit, so I thought maybe I would stick around for a little while. The booth that I was sitting at could almost fit seven people, and there I was by myself with my long hair and all. All of a sudden, about five really hot chicks walked in, and I couldn’t take my eyes off them. They all had to cram around this little table. Finally, one of them walked up to me and asked me if I would trade with them. I said sure, why not. As we moved, this one kept staring at me, and I was staring back. She came up and asked me, You’re not from here, are you? I asked her, What do you think? and she said, Hell no, and sat down next to me. All these people just stared at us. I’m not sure what their trip was, but I soon found out later. I kept taking my little bathroom breaks, and then she asked me to join them. I said, Fuck yeah. So she and I sat around and shot the shit all night drinking and having a good time. Well, it got to be around closing time. As we were walking out, she said she just lived around the corner and wondered if I wanted to come over and have a drink with her. I said, Sure. Well, after we got to her apartment, she got me a beer, and I asked to use her bathroom. She said, Sure. I was in there doing a line of cocaine, and she walked in on me. I thought, Shit, I just blew my chance with this chick, but I