1995 — SIX
Eve, my Good Bitch,
Hellooo Babes! Sorry I’m writing on this butt I
have no paper.
So wusssss up G!
That’s kool-mo-d that we don’t have anymore lunch
detention! Yay!
Oh yeah, Cadence was telling me about the $5.00.
I think you guys should just give him the pott too. I
know what you mean about Cadence acting different
but you can’t blame her.
Perhaps I can bogart you a compact at Rite AID!
Anyways – I didn’t wanna tell you when you were
making your decision about dumping him, but I think
it was a good choice.
You deserve better! Well gotta go.Jackie Marie (your playmate)
Jackie was a master shoplifter. Her parents refused to give her an allowance or even money at birthdays or holidays for some reason. Not only that but they wouldn’t allow her to go on sleepovers other than religion retreats.
But she did wear make-up, and the only way she could score it was by stealing it from one of the two drugstores in town after school. If she ever got caught, she probably got a severe beating from her father and put on lockdown for a good while, but I don’t remember her getting busted once. She was that good. She carried a big sack of cosmetics in her bookbag, and wore a lot of dark ruddy burgundy-colored lipstick.
The five bucks and pot(tt) mention refers to a shady business transaction Cadence, Jackie and I orchestrated. There was a preppy boy in our grade who had recently tried to ‘come over to our side’. I think he had a crush on all three of us self-proclaimed bad ass bitches, and was trying to make us think he was cool by telling us he smoked pot. We didn’t believe him for a minute, we perceived him as way too straight-laced and cheesy for trying to promote himself as not by exaggerating his drug use to us. Now I can’t remember if we offered our services to him or if he asked us, but we ended up making a deal that we would sell him a nickel bag of grass.
We were not drug dealers, us three. We knew enough drug dealers and burgeoning addicts to buy drugs for ourselves, it was just always around us. We decided straight away that we would not be selling this kid real pot, and to us then, five dollars was a great profit. We could buy own own nickel bag with it and smoke together, we could buy two packs of Marlboro Reds with it, we could buy milk at the cafeteria for a month on that. We could buy three lipglosses and three packs of gum. Out of all of those options, my best guess is that we chose the first one.
Jackie found some marijuana-looking flora in her backyard somewhere, dried it up with a microwave and hairdryer, and it was soaked in Pine Sol overnight. It was put into a little baggie the next day and I passed him the bag underneath our shared desk in science class - I forgot to mention he and I were lab partners. He passed me a five dollar bill back with nervous hands, but it was just like passing notes - our teacher hadn’t a clue a fake drug deal was going on in the third row of his classroom. I wonder if the kids behind us did… Either way, this was near the end of our final year of junior high, and I gave a shit about very little as I felt I was almost out of that place anyway. I had no idea what high school held in store but in my head it just meant bigger and better, and a fresh start. Our class of eighth graders was about 100 kids; when we moved onto ninth grade that number would double with the addition of students from another middle school. And then of course there were the 500+ students in other grades.
Years later, when the victim of our sheisty deal and I had become friends — he had really descended down to ‘our side’, he confessed to me at a party that he knew the “grass” we gave him was fake. Part of me didn’t believe him, and had the sinister hope that he only found out it wasn’t real after attempting to smoke it. As long as Pine Sol doesn’t kill people. God, could us idiot girls really have killed someone by poison? I sometimes shake my head at why I am still alive to this day, after some of the shit we pulled.
