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A man whose purpose is to travel and party on permanent vacation, these are the stories both past and present
Monday, August 18, 2014
Sunday, August 3, 2014
Prologue Five, Putting the Ecstasy Pills to the test
Time period: Beginning of Summer 1995
Location: Amsterdam
I was glad the work with the Cirque Du Solei was finished, I was getting tired of such menial work but after 4 weeks the payoff was satisfactory. With this paycheck, plus what I still had in savings was just enough to get one-way airline tickets to New York and 500 ecstasy pills. I called Mike to verify if he was still down to help me sell the ecstasy, when he said yes I paid a visit to one of my local Amsterdam ecstasy dealers.
In Amsterdam there are hundreds of street dealers selling every variety of drug there is. Dealing with this class of dealer isn't a good idea, however they are helpful with providing higher level dealers. I met "Josh" this way, for a long time Josh would be my go-to guy when I wanted to buy or sell drugs in Amsterdam.
Josh was a Dutch kid, about 20 or so who liked to take drugs. Every time we met he was always high, drunk or both. This was never a problem for me because I certainly was no Saint, and Josh was 100 percent reliable in whatever state of inebriation he was in. Josh admitted to me that he took ecstasy pills everyday.
Josh was easy to find, he lived just a few streets away from the hostel I was working in and he came in often to drink pints of beers and sell drugs to the backpackers. I waited for him to come around so that I could ask him about buying the 500 ecstasy pills. It was the usual time when Josh arrived to the hostel, I invited him to a booth in the back of the bar for a private talk.
Josh had some really nice looking ecstasy pills on him, a new batch of pink pills with the Playboy bunny logo on it. These "Playboys" would soon become famous for being the best ecstasy ever, ever since the dove stamped pills the "Doves". When I told Josh that I was looking to buy 500 ecstasy pills he gave me 2 Playboys as a sample and said he would charge me 5 Guilders apiece, or about 3 dollars each. I did the math and an investment of $1500 dollars for the ecstasy in Amsterdam meant that its potential value in New York was $15,000 dollars, a tenfold profit if each pill was sold for the maximum retail value of the $30 dollars apiece.
Since I wanted to act fast, I decided to test the pink Playboy ecstasy by taking it on the spot. It was around 3 in the afternoon during the middle of the week, but in Amsterdam it doesn't matter. Josh was amused that I took the pill so soon that he too took one, while inviting the two new backpacker girls sitting next to us to join. The girls were from Australia and cool as hell, at the sight of the pills in Josh's hands they knowingly glanced at each other and took an ecstasy pill each. Things were getting interesting.
After about 20 minutes I started to feel my eyes rolling backwards as the rush of the MDMA flooded my body. I was overcome with both excitation and tranquility, I wanted to get out and walk around. Judging by my company sitting with me, I could see I was in good company because they were looking really fucked up...fucked up in the good way I was feeling.
The girls were staying at my hostel so they dropped their gear off in their room, we then all walked to the corner pub where they were playing some good techno music. We drank beer after beer and it didn't matter, the alcoholic buzz was nice but the ecstasy ruled. I felt so good I made an order for 500 pink Playboys the next day when we were sober. To my surprise the Australian girls bought 10 for themselves, since they were worth about $50 dollars apiece in Australia.
That evening, the four of us stayed up all night in Voondlepark drinking and tripping, it was one of my greatest ecstasy experiences of my life. I was relatively new to the drug and the pink Playboys at the time were highly loaded with good ol' pure MDMA.
Mexico has a new resident in awesome Mazatlán
When Captain Joe and I arrived to La Paz, it was Sunday afternoon at the marina and the main office was closed. We were required by law to check in with our passports but apparently they don't care on Sundays, we didn't care either. We were pretty hungry after the trip so the Captain locked up the boat and we went to the marina restaurant to eat.
La Paz was exactly that, peaceful. Paz means peace in Spanish and the first colonists who came up with the name weren't lying. It struck me right away that it was too peaceful, no action at all.
We had two more days before our flight back to Portland so there was plenty of time to explore La Paz, Captain Joe was tired and went to sleep early but I decided to check out the Malecón. Later I would discover after arriving to Mazatlán that most all the coastal cities in Mexico have an "El Malecón", the road and walkway that goes along the coast.
El Malecón in La Paz was very busy, mostly with kids riding their skateboards and bikes all over the place. After awhile it was a little annoying being constantly buzzed by speeding children, so I decided to buy some alcohol and sit on the beach and have a celebratory drink.
I went into an Oxxo, the 7-11 of Mexico, where they had beer, wine, and hard liquor. Since I had very little money until my next check, I opted for some cheap liquor. To my surprise they had these little plastic jugs of distilled mezcal for less than a buck. Right away I knew these were Mexico's answer to America's malt liquor, alcohol designed specifically for getting fucked up and at the cheapest price aimed at the poor people market. I bought the medium, 20 ounce sized bottle for a dollar fifty.
I walked towards the beach and sat on a bench right off El Malecón, the splash of the waves and music from somewhere behind me made it a pleasant experience. I cracked open the plastic jug and took a swig, whoaa it was strong. After only two swigs I was numb, numb enough to explore a little more without being irritated by hoards of children. What I really needed was some weed, but I was too paranoid to go around asking for it. There were no obvious street dealers hanging out on corners like other cities I've been to, La Paz is heavily patrolled by both state and federal police as well as armed marines who are stationed there. La Paz is of great interest to Mexico because of its high touristic value, Mexico has to protect it for the revenue La Paz brings in.
As I walked, I checked out the nightlife along El Malecón but since it was Sunday it was dead. I did see potential because of the several bars everywhere, one in particular looked like my kind of techno disco sort. The places that were open mostly play the popular Musica Banda, not really what I can get into. The Mezcal went to my head quick and since there was no action around I headed back to the boat to sleep.
The next day I was not hungover, and eager to start the day. Captain Joe and I went to the marina's main office to check in with our passports, the lady behind the counter was pleasant and didn't bother to look at our passports. The Captain checked his boat in and paid the required fees, we were in and out in under 5 minutes.
I wish I had a camera at this time, since my tablet broke I didn't have any way to take pictures. Ug, not only was that a pain but I was cutoff from the world with easy internet access. It wasn't until recently since I've gotten a replacement and an independent camera.
Captain Joe wanted to get started right away with his boat, so we made our inquiries at the repair ports nearby. My Spanish was finally starting to come in handy because nobody spoke English. We set up a future appointment for the equipment necessary to do the work and we were done. If it weren't for my Spanish the whole process would have taken forever.
The next day as Captain Joe prepared his gear to go back to The United States, I decided that I didn't want to go back yet. La Paz was nice and I wanted to see a little more of it, but I especially wanted to see more of Mexico. I found a cheap place to stay for a week then bought a ticket on the Bajaferry, a large ferry that took me from La Paz to Mazatlán. I've never even heard of Mazatlán before, to me it was just a way point as I traveled deeper into the country.
I would end up staying here in Mazatlán, even as I write this now. I fell in love with this place and got settled right in. I don't plan on living here always from here on out, but Mazatlán is going to be another home for me.
Friday, August 1, 2014
Monday, July 28, 2014
Prologue Four, Buy more Ecstasy pills and do it myself
Doug was finally done tripping his ass off. The effects of the combination of a high, prolonged dose of MDMA and LSD was finally over. He had the most beautiful/scariest experiences he'd ever seen. As he was telling me what happened, many of the assumptions Mike and I had were correct.
While Doug was on the plane he had dropped some acid he saved from a few weeks before, I remember the acid now because I too had a personal stash of it. It was some really fucking good LSD too, very clean without the dirty feeling. Even way back then that kind of LSD was hard to find, the tabs didn't even have any type of logo. Just plain white. I didn't ask Doug why he did something so stupid, I let him continue his story.
Everything Mike had previously told me was verified by Doug's account, from starting to trip on acid while at passport control to showing up at Mike's door. Everything in the middle was simply a blur, as if he were dreaming it because of how odd and improbable the events were. He spoke of unicorns and cosmic fabric that was ripped, I was afraid Doug may have ripped his brain but Doug reassured me that the thinking was over.
Doug agreed with the theory that Mike and I came up with, that the ecstasy pills were deployed in his stomach during the flight making Doug take the acid too. Doug wasn't stupid enough to do that, but now that he was better I couldn't help think how he was stupid. Stupid to swallow 150 ecstasy pills wrapped in condoms. At any rate I was happy that Doug was going to be ok.
About a week later Doug was able to get together enough money to leave New York, an uncle that I had met many years before had offered to let him stay with him in California. The sense of relief I had for Doug was great, he was after all one of my best friends. I did feel sad because I didn't think I would ever hear from Doug again.
My dreams of going to New York with a substantial quantity of ecstasy pills never subsided, despite the major fail that had just happened. I kept in close contact with Mike just in case he would still be down when I showed up in New York with a large amount of ecstasy pills.
Initially, I was hoping Doug would make it to New York and start making some money to reinvest back into the purchase of more pills. With the prices I was starting to find outside of our first wholesaler, I could buy at least a thousand or two more pills with enough money. Unfortunately I wasn't going to see anything back from Doug and I had to think.
My living situation was already arranged, on a daily basis I was hustling the train station in Amsterdam keeping my quota of beds full. That work didn't require a lot of time, 2 hours tops so I had to find other work to raise cash.
The plan of buying at least a thousand more pills was dead, raising that cash wasn't possible for the timeframe I was planning. However, I could just buy as many as I can and take them to New York. After looking at the money I had currently I concluded with myself I needed to find some additional fast work, I couldn't afford to buy a worthy amount of pills to smuggle across the US border.
Finding a legitimate job as an American in a European country is impossible, by impossible I mean one has to actually get married to a European or be a brain with skills the Europeans can't fill the job with their own. I was neither so I had to keep thinking.
In Amsterdam, the best way to get around was by bicycle. I had in my possession the eighth bike I owned since arriving, they were easy to buy for a few guilders from the street junkies that stole them. Unfortunately the downfall of cheap stolen property meant in return the item would be restolen, to be thrown back into the never ending cycle of Dutch stolen bicycle economics. Hence the reason it was my eighth bicycle I was riding at the time.
It was Summer at the time, the season had just begun so it wasn't that hot yet. The weather was sunny and perfect when I took my bike out for a ride around the city. I rode through Vondelpark taking in the sun when I noticed a bunch of tents being set up in the distance, not very well either. It was a bunch of Dutch teenagers of both genders in disorganized array, they obviously did not want to be there.
In Holland, I would guess at least over 80 percent of them speak perfect English. English is a popular class in Dutch schools because English is a part of their very own language. The Dutch language is a blend of three different languages, English, German and French. Look at a map of Europe and you'll understand why, the Dutch are smack dab in the middle of massive European conquests and defeats for centuries. They even had to build their own land out into the sea, with a whole shitload of moved dirt. Do your research and you'll see why a lot of Holland is below sea level.
When I saw what was happening with the tent I saw an opportunity for work, I approached the teens at the work site and with no surprise found that they all spoke English. When I asked who they were working for I discovered that they were volunteering for the Cirque du Soleil. This was the first time I've ever heard of the Cirque du Soleil (this was 1995) yet saw all the equipment they had. There was no way in hell these kids were motivated enough to get so much work done, I had to find a manager to make an employment inquiry.
Nearby I saw an office trailer in an open field of the park, that was obviously where any kind of command was taking place that day. I walked to it and knocked on the door, I was asked to enter in Dutch.
Cirque du Soleil was unheard of to me at that time, and they were currently touring through Europe. When I asked if they were hiring they enthusiastically told me yes and that I could start on the spot. They walked me back outside to where all the kids were working and without any direction simply asked me to help them, which at the time seemed too general. No money or work hours were ever discussed, but I jumped right into the job because I knew that was their mistake. I couldn't legally work for a company in Europe, and now I was. My foot was in the door no matter how they were going to end up paying me.
After about 10 minutes I could understand why they wanted me to help the kids, they were all volunteering for their school with no command or motivation… or paycheck. I starting wondering if I was considered a volunteer too.
At that time I was 25 years old and the Dutch students I was working with averaged about 16 years old. When I started working with them as this out-of-town American it never struck the kids to be strange, I guess since we were working for a traveling circus that would be plausible. It wasn't long before they were asking me what to do, I guess I had turned crew chief by default on account of my age.
Running the basics of a site of operation isn't that hard, in the Army we did it all the time. I ordered the kids to unpack everything as I figured we would have to anyway. It's was surprising how motivated the kids became when they had a leader instructing them, everything was unpacked within an hour.
The completed setup of the circus ground took only 2 days with the assistance of a construction company, the Dutch kids' work was done but I was hired to stay on as a custodian. Nothing fancy, I had to to empty the trash and sweep up. Luckily this work lasted a month and I was paid in cash in the end. This money, combined with the last of the money I had saved up was enough to get me 500 pills. I did the math in my head and was happy, I knew that despite it not being a thousand… it was enough to start.
Monos Bichis, Statues along the Malecón in Mazatlán Mexico (at Playa Mazatlan)
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Statue in honor of brewers of Pacifio beer, Statues along El Malecón Mazatlán Mexico (at Playa Mazatlan)
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All the statues of ladies on El Malecón Mazatlán Mexico have really nice tits
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