until I realized that the number had likely been some criminal's burn phone so I said the hell with it and became a criminal.
Why not? "Where do you want me to meet you with the stuff?"
When I didn't show up and they called me back I blamed them for being in the wrong place and threatened to have them whacked. The counter threats were pretty good, too.
Whoever had this phone number before me likely got the living daylights beat out of him.
Whoever had the number seemed to have a pretty good variety store because the calls were not all for drugs. They were for women, too.
After a week or so of playing pimp I bored with it and decided to be someone else for a while. I became James Michael Tipperton IV, the CEO of the Tipperton Securities Exchange. Actually I became Mr. Tipperton's butler.
It was fun being Tipperton's butler and I remember more than one confused caller. Imagine being some kind of druggie looking to score and instead of dealing with the usual greasy little street corner thug, you are talking to the butler of James Michael Tipperton IV.
I remember telling one druggie that appeared to be a supplier that Mr. Tipperton was certainly not interested in street grade pharmaceuticals as he had a personal doctor that would prescribe him anything he wanted.
The calls dropped off rather quickly but there were odd ones dribbling in for about a year or so. It's been a while since since the last one so I suppose the number is now mine.
I can't say I miss the calls. I don't. Still, it was interesting being called a drug dealer over the phone for a couple of months.
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