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.

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.

Prologue Three, A Trip in New York

Days went by and I heard nothing from Doug, I tried calling Mike's apartment everyday but there was no answer.

I knew something bad was happening simply from lack of any news, Doug would never fuck me over and if he did that was bad enough. I didn't know Mike that well and I began to wonder if he had anything to do with the trouble. I was really concerned for Doug because the last time I saw him he had a gut full of 150 ecstasy pills.

After about 5 days I had a message waiting for me at the front desk of the hostel. It was from Mike asking to call him urgently, his number was changed.

I went to a nearby phone booth to call Mike and he answered on the second ring, he sounded relieved to hear from me. He began to recount what was happening the last few days.

Mike said that Doug had called him from Amsterdam shortly before boarding his flight,  telling him when he was arriving to New York. Mike assured Doug that he would be home and to come right over. Doug was to be at Mikes house sometime in the evening of his arrival.

Mike waited for Doug and he never showed up, after another day of waiting Mike was so paranoid he changed his number and threw mine away. He thought he was going to get busted.

Almost two days later Doug showed up at Mike's apartment, he was filthy and not alone. With Doug was another man that was equally filthy but didn't appear homeless.

Mike was nervous and extremely confused, he was not expecting this odd company. Doug told Mike that everything was okay and that the other guy with him was his associate. This struck Mike to be odd since no other person was mentioned in all this, but invited the both of them in anyway.

Mike immediately regretted his decision when he saw how strange they were acting, it was very obvious they were on drugs. Mike began to wonder when Doug was going to show him the pills from Amsterdam, but didn't ask because of the other guy.

Not long after his arrival Doug went into the bathroom and started vomiting, retching so badly that Mike thought he was dying. The other man that came with Doug didn't pay attention or seem to care. That was an instant red flag for Mike. Doug wouldn't answer the door when Mike knocked, so he opened it to see what was happening.

Doug was prostrated over the side of the bathtub retching and fighting for breath, his body seemed to think throwing up was more of a priority over breathing. Mike was in absolute shock at what he was seeing.

Coming out of Doug's mouth were strands of plastic wrap and condoms, in a mixture of blue froth. The blue was from the coloring in the pills. Doug was fervently pulling at the mixture of plastic and rubber trying to clear it from his throat, trying to unblock his breathing. Mike watched in horror as Doug finally freed the mess from his throat and vomited some more. It was the same blue froth, and nothing else.

Mike didn't know what to do, he wanted to ask me for advice. When Mike exited the bathroom he saw that the strange guy with Doug was not there. A quick glance around and nothing looked like it was missing, but Mike didn't have anything of value to steal. A Sony boom box was his most valuable item, and it was safely in the bedroom

Mike instantly regretted changing his number because he quickly realized he had thrown mine out too. All ties of communication were severed and he needed to speak with me urgently.

When he went back to Doug to ask him if he knew the number, Doug appeared to be sleeping on the floor. He was breathing and a little restless, but much better than before. Mike took comfort that the puking was over and that Doug would probably be alright. He left Doug on the bathroom floor, where he laid for several hours. Mike checked in on him several times, but Doug was so out of it.

Finally after about 5 or 6 hours, Doug started to come around. He was still really confused about what was happening around him, Mike never cleaned up the mess in the bathroom. Upon realizing what happened to the pills in his stomach, Doug started to panic. Mike had another round of fear of getting into trouble, but manned up and asked Doug if he wanted an ambulance. Doug strongly refused the medical attention and asked for a glass of water instead.

When Mike asked if had spoken with me at any time before showing up, Doug told him no. Doug began telling Mike about everything that happened since he left Amsterdam. The story was incredible, sometimes childish. Doug was really, really high on MDMA, and he was lucky to be alive.

From what Mike could make out from Doug's story, somewhere over the Atlantic during the flight Doug decided to take LSD. The flight was about 6 hours long but it wasn't until he was at JFK International Airport when the acid hit, and hard. Doug still didn't make it through customs yet and he was tripping so hard that he forgot to get his checked bag. He walked directly in the direction of the pointing arrows indicating the exit, Doug needed to just get out.

To great credit to Doug, he was smart enough to understand that he was about to enter the country via customs, and needed to tighten up. When it was Doug's turn in line to see the customs agent, he showed his passport and was let into the country no questions asked.

Doug continued walking towards the exits, the airport was busy with travelers and other hub bub that was too hard to take.

Doug's story about the subsequent events upon leaving are vague and hazy. There was no chronological order and odd references to landmarks that aren't even in New York.

Apparently he got into a taxi from the airport and was dropped off somewhere in Manhattan. From there he met all kinds of friends and went on fun adventures with them, taking more LSD and handing some out to his new friends.

Sometime later Doug realized he was in New York, and that he knew Mike. It was never established if he knew that he was supposed to actually meet Mike, but he did remember Mike's address and wanted to visit. Somehow, after all that time, Doug managed to show up at Mike's with a new friend.

After the story and a lot of persuasion, Doug gave Mike my number in Amsterdam and begged him not to call me. He asked for a pack of tarot cards and some rosary beads instead, on that note Mike secretly called me from downstairs.

After some discussion about what was happening, Mike and I think that the condoms started to break during the flight. Instead of panic, Doug was getting really high. Why Doug wasn't killed from an overdose, we guessed the condoms acted as a slow-release mechanism because there were still a lot of semi-undigested pills in the puke.

Doug is a smart man, I've known him long enough to know that he wouldn't drop acid on an international flight. That's why I think the condoms were compromised during the flight, Doug started getting high and ready to party. Started to get stupid.

Since the next few days of Doug's story was so bizarre, we could only assume correctly that Doug was balls out candy flipping, high on a strong combination of MDMA and good Dutch LSD.

Before hanging up with Mike we agreed to just let Doug be, let him get through whatever weirdness he was going through. I apologized profusely and we kept in telephone contact for the next 24 hours.

About two days later Doug called me in Amsterdam, Mike told me he was going to call me so I was expected the call. Doug was extremely ashamed and began telling me what happened to him.

Prologue Two, Amsterdam

When Doug and I arrived to Amsterdam we were still exhausted from New York, the sleep I got on the plane wasn't enough. Luckily the hostel we were staying at was a 2 minute walk from the Centraal Station, Amsterdam's main rail station. Immediately after getting our beds in the hostel dorm, we slept for almost two days.

The dorm we were staying in had 12 beds, and was busy with coming and going backpackers from all over the world. Eventually after enough rest, Doug and I was able to move again to meet our roommates and walk around the city.

Hostel living was awesome, especially in Amsterdam. Doug and I ended up living there for several weeks, even doing a little work there helping keep the beds filled with tourists. The gig was more for fun than money, but it was nice to not have to pay our own rent anymore. The work was simple too, all we did was hang out at the train station and pass out flyers to the droves of tourists coming to town.

During this time I was partying too, hash and weed was sold in coffee shops everywhere and first rate ecstasy was being sold for 15 guilders a pill by Turkish dealers in the clubs. At that price, that equated to about 7 dollars a pill… much less than the 30 dollars in New York. Some simple calculations got Doug and I thinking.

Doug and I started to discuss the option of buying a quantity of ecstasy and selling it in New York, with a markup of 23 dollars, or a 300% profit. It's not like we were broke and hard up for money, but what I was missing was action. The idea of going to New York with a mess of pills just sounded too cool.

Working at the hostel gave us the advantage of getting good connections, ecstasy being the most abundant. At that time, in the mid 90s, ecstasy was so abundant in Amsterdam because it was being produced there, more than any other place because of the laws. The law was so lenient in Holland regarding ecstasy production, that the risk of getting caught wasn't so bad. A chemist could make millions before getting caught, then end up doing 3 or 4 years in a Dutch prison which isn't that bad. Dutch prison is like living in a campus dorm room that you can't leave.

Doug and I started talking to some guys we knew that sold ecstasy to get a feel for prices and selection. There were so many different kinds of pills to choose from: Doves, Playboys, Mercedes, Dolphins, etc etc… The pills get their names from the stamped image in the pill, pressing pictures of little doves or dolphins into the tablet. I thought that was so cool how the pills could be identified that way, all the pills I saw in New York never had any images on them.

The question of quality was never an issue, all the pills we were using in Amsterdam were consistently top notch, some I would easily argue better than pills in New York.

Pricing was awesome too, with all the money we could spend we could buy 200 pills for 1000 dollars, or 5 dollars a piece. My mind instantly did the calculations and those pills would equate to a New York value of 6000 dollars… not bad. If I had more money, I would've looked into buying more.

We never fully committed at the time to make the buy, we still had a lot of planning to do. Getting the pills was easy but now we had to think about getting them to New York, and what to do after that. Doug and I had zero experience dealing drugs, sure I bought them all the time… just never sold them.

The easiest problem we dealt with first, what to do with the pills after they get to New York. We decided to give Mike in New York a call to bounce the idea off him.

Mike was happy to hear from me, and when I informed him of our plan he had mixed emotions. Mike wasn't a drug dealer either, sure he copped pills for us in New York but he wasn't making money from it. He didn't even qualify as a low level street dealer.

Mike was interested in the idea of having so many pills around, but it was scary to him too. He never thought about changing character from simple user to dealer before, which is a big step to make. I never thought of it like that and instantly regretted calling Mike, I was afraid I either insulted him or corrupted him.

After a brief and awkward pause I was about to apologize and hang up, but Mike spoke first and told me to bring the pills to his apartment if I ever was in town. He said that if I was serious and made it, we could figure out what to do with the pills after. To me that was an indication that Mike was down, and considered the problem of what to do with them in New York as solved.

Doug was happy to hear about what Mike had said and was extra enthusiastic about the plan, I was feeling it too. Amsterdam is awesome but I was missing that New York action, I was dreaming of clubbing and pill popping with pockets stuffed with cash.

Doug wanted to move fast and fly to New York by the next week, the feeling was mutual but I wanted more time. We were about to spend our last 1000 dollars on pills and I wanted a solid plan to get them to New York.

There was a lot of disagreement between Doug and I about transporting the pills to New York. I proposed we carried 100 pills each and travel to Frankfurt Germany by train, to later board separately on the same flight to New York. Once passed US customs we would reunite outside JFK airport by the taxi stand and take a cab together to Mike's. High fiving the whole way.

My thinking was simple, 100 pills could easily be stacked into a small package which could be disguised or hid. I pictured in my mind splitting 100 pills into 4 stacks of 25 pills, then putting the 4 stacks together and mentally measure its dimensions. I came up with my most liberal estimation by rounding up every whole number… I reckoned a package of 100 pills could be tightly stacked to 3X1X1 inches, or the size of a small matchbox.

Traveling to Frankfurt Germany by train and boarding a plane for New York to me was perfect. At the time European borders were still checked by customs, but holding an American passport made it easy to get through. The problem was American customs, and flying directly from Amsterdam would be stupid.

Boarding the plane separately and flying independently made sense to minimize any trouble,  if any were to occur. Not that I was worried, 100 pills sounded easy to sneak through.

Doug didn't like the plan and felt it was too risky, he said he didn't want to go to prison, which I completely understood. When I asked him what he suggested we do I couldn't fucking believe it.

At the hostel we were staying at there were backpackers from all over the world that came, to buy their drugs and smuggle them to their country of origin. Many of them swallowed drugs in balloons, to throw them up after once passed the border. Doug wanted to smuggle the pills like that, swallowed in balloons.

Doug was so charged up and anxious to leave, he started making hasty decisions that weren't smart. He bought a ticket to New York leaving Amsterdam within a week and made a deal for 150 pills, which he didn't have all the money for.

Doug informed me of his plan. He was buying 150 doves and he was going to smuggle them in his stomach, carefully following the instructions from those at the hostel that were doing it. He had even reached out to Mike in New York already and was expected there.

I wanted nothing to do with this plan, but unfortunately I had to. Doug had already made a deal for the pills and at the end of the day, Doug was my friend and I trusted him that he knew what he was doing. I helped him with 700 dollars to buy the pills.

When Doug got the pills they were small and blue, with a print of a dove on them. I had never seen so many pills before, the most I've seen at one time was 10 which was rare. 150 pills looked so felonious, a quantity that separates the user from the dealer. I felt like I was definitely crossing a personal boundary, and it felt ok.

Testing the pills was easy, we each took one and gave a couple to these two backpacker girls from Portugal. The four of us had the most amazing time, we all ended up staying up all weekend, taking about 20 pills between the four of us.

Doug took the remaining 130 pills, separated them into 13 stacks of 10 pills, and wrapped them individually in cellophane. He then took the cellophane wraps and wrapped them in condoms, to later be swallowed.

That didn't sound right, but I was no expert. There was a Polish backpacker at the hostel helping Doug out, and he reassured Doug and I that he does it this way all the time. The condoms will make it in the stomach and withstand the acid.

Two days later Doug left the hostel for New York. I wished him good luck and asked to call me the second he arrived.

Prologue One, In the beginning

I was born in 1969 and raised in Honolulu, Hawaii since I was 5. I had a good life growing up, spoiled on birthdays and Christmas plus never the slightest bit of abuse. It was the perfect childhood.

In the summer of 1987 after I graduated from high school, I joined the army when I 17 years old.

I joined the army because I had no idea what I wanted to do with my life, not even the slightest clue. When asked by others, such as my high school guidance counselor, what I wanted to do after high school… my response was always "I don't know ". My guidance counselor started to encourage me to see an army recruiter.

The recruiter instantly had my attention with promises of travel, adventure and a paycheck. It didn't take him more than an hour to have me ready to sign up right then and there. If it weren't for my age I would have, but at 17 I needed my mother's permission.

later that day I approached my mother to ask her permission to join the army, the sooner the better. My mother pondered my question a moment, and said yes. She explained that she was relieved that I finally seemed to have some direction, and promised that after graduation we could go see the recruiter together.

Two weeks after graduation we saw a recruiter,  then two weeks after I was on my way to basic training. I had to make a deal with my mother though, in order to get her to sign the permission I needed to choose an MOS that wasn't too hardcore. I chose a radio job but with the guarantee I would go to jump school, I needed some action and airborne school seemed interesting.

The army was cool. I was active duty army for 5 years from 1987 to 1992. In that time I lived in a dozen different countries, experienced new and unusual cultures, wined and dined with beautiful women… and was in various combat zones.

I happened to pick one of the most combat deployable radio jobs the army offered and being airborne made it even more likely. I knew what I was doing when I joined, deal or no deal with my mother, I knew how to pick an MOS that could offer reasonable action with tech over brawn.

When my service came to an end in 1992, I opted not to reenlist. I went back to Honolulu to begin my civilian life and quite frankly, I was back to square one. I had no idea what to do with my life.

I easily found work using my tech skills at the cable company, and being a veteran gave me preference. The work was dull and the pay sucked, I wasn't enjoying what I was doing. After less than a year of working for the cable company, I applied for other jobs. One of which was to be a police officer.

To be honest, I didn't think the police job was what I was going to do. The application process was long with many tests and interviews over the course of about 7 months. They kept calling me in though, and I kept going in to see them.

During this time I just couldn't work for the cable company anymore, I needed action. Thankfully my mother worked in the bar industry in Waikiki and got me a neat gig as a doorman at a nightclub. The pay still sucked but at least it was fun and I was getting laid a lot, there is an endless supply of tourist women on "holiday" in Waikiki.

During the Summer of 1993 I was called by human resources from the Honolulu Police Department, they asked if I still wanted the job. I was stunned, but took the job right away. I couldn't believe it yet was happy because it sounded like something cool to do, they also paid really good starting day one of the academy.

My police academy class had around 40 recruits, I learned later that out of over 5000 applicants… it was only us they selected. Upon hearing that I felt a bit odd because I wasn't thinking in terms of being a career police officer, I was just seeking something interesting to do.

The police academy was about 8 months long. We didn't live there like in the movie but we did stay there long days. The training was top notch and the Honolulu Police Academy was nationally known for being among the best in the county. We used to be observed by other agencies all the time.

Before graduation I was approached by narco-vice and asked if I wanted to work undercover in their division. I knew they often watched us recruits to look for good undercover officers and I was one they liked. To the surprise of the academy captain I turned them down, I wanted to be a very clearly identifiable police officer. I was excited to wear the uniform and drive a police car, there was no other way to explain it. The captain thought I was crazy for missing the opportunity but said he understood.

The thrill of being a police officer soon started to wear off, despite the occasional intense incident. Endless patrolling and tons of paperwork almost made me regret not taking the narco gig, almost… I would often chat with the other guys that took the narco job and it sounded worse. Narco-vice was a lot of lying and deceit, at least they didn't deal with daily paperwork.

I began planning my escape from the police department, I wanted to see and do more. I wanted to travel again like when I was in the army.

I had a roommate at the time, I will call him 'Doug'. Doug was a good guy and we were good friends, we rented a decent apartment in Waikiki and had plenty of friends come around to visit. Since I was a former doorman turned cop and Doug was a bigtime chef we were the place to come for socializing.

One day Doug and I had a serious conversation about the state of our lives, it was a life changing discussion. We both agreed that we hated our jobs and that we both were tired of living on an island. When I told Doug I was seriously thinking of quitting the police department to travel the world, he asked me when was I leaving and if he could come with me. The only answer I could give was "Of course. "

The plan was simple, I wanted to go back to Europe. When I was in the army I was stationed for two years in Germany, which were two of my most blissful years. While in Germany I traveled all over, France, Italy, Spain, etc… but the one place I loved visiting the most was Amsterdam. This is where I wanted to go first.

Amsterdam to me was a symbol of freedom and toleration, the historic city was beautiful and the people are awesome. I won't lie, I liked the freedom to party and the access to the coffee shops where the best hash and marijuana could be found.

I wanted to do it all again as a civilian with no ties or obligations, with no bounds. I wanted to be able to go wherever and whenever I wanted.

It wasn't long before we both put our two week notices in at our jobs, I said I was leaving for personal reasons and I believe Doug told his employer because he can kiss his ass. Doug really didn't like his job.

Around Spring of 1995 we were set and left Honolulu, we had money put together, airline tickets, and passports in hand. We both didn't know it at the time, but what we were doing was going to drastically change our lives.

One of the cool things about living in the very social Waikiki environment was the amount of friends and contacts we made. It took us 3 weeks to make it to Amsterdam because of all the people we visited on our way there, but the one stop that had the most impact on our future decisions was our stop in New York City.

We went to stay with a friend, who I will call 'Kim'. Kim was both cool and gorgeous that worked as a dancer at Score's, the top gentleman's club in New York. Doug and I met her while she was visiting Hawaii, she was a good friend of a friend and came by our place in Waikiki all the time to hang out.

After we settled in, Kim asked us if we wanted to party New York style. Obviously our answer was yes. We had been partying it up since leaving Hawaii from Las Angeles to Las Vegas and now New York, so why stop a good thing?

Kim called a friend of hers to come around, 'Mike'. Mike exuded an attitude of pure New York, fast talking and confident with a touch of arrogance. I knew right away I liked Mike.

After no more than five minutes of Mike's arrival, Kim immediately asked him if he can score some X.

X, I've heard of it only twice before. I knew it was slang for the drug ecstasy and became immediately curious if Mike could get it.

I wasn't curious if he could get it because I wanted to try it, I was curious if he could even get it all. When I first heard about ecstasy, I heard it on two other occasions over the years from guys who were looking to buy it with no luck.

You would think I would've heard more about ecstasy when I was a policeman in Hawaii, but during that time ecstasy was still unheard of there. The times I did hear about it was in passing at a bar, I never gave it much thought.

Mike lit up with enthusiasm upon being asked about getting the drug and nodded that he could. He explained that they were 30 dollars each and that he can get them in half an hour.

Doug and I were down to try this ecstasy out. I've never even seen what it looked like or how it was used, but after getting a quick synopsis from Kim about how badass X was… I took 30 dollars from my pocket and gave it to Mike.

As promised, Mike returned in half an hour with 6 tablets that looked like those white 'Mentos' candies. There were a total of 6 of us by that time in Kim's apartment, two of Kim's coworkers showed up to party too… dancers from the same gentleman's club as Kim's.

It was about 10 PM as Mike passed out each tablet to us, as he did he encouraged everyone to take it right away because New York was awaiting us. It was party time. On the advice from everyone, Doug and I only took a half to begin because it was our first time trying it while everyone else took the whole pill.

Shortly after taking our pills we all piled into two taxis and headed to the China Club, one of New York's most elite night clubs. The line to get in was long but to Doug's and my amazement we all walked to the front of the line and walked right into the club. Apparently our party group had a lot of pull and I liked that.

Once inside the club something very powerful happened to me. I began to feel an exciting rush pass through me, it was a mix of that thrill before Christmas when I was a kid and the thrill of falling in love. Everything was so beautiful and interesting,  the music being spun was the best ever and all the people in the club were the coolest people in the world. I was having the best time in my life.

Doug and I ended up staying in New York for a week partying and sleep was rare. Our impromptu party crew hit a different elite night club every night,  and when they closed at 4 AM we stopped at every mafia sponsored after party/speakeasy to keep going. I was starting to really like the life of ecstasy and clubbing, hanging out with others using it, it was neat to see some famous people doing it too. It felt like this life was somehow a social equalizer. 

On the airplane going to Amsterdam, Doug and I wondered if there was ecstasy in Amsterdam.