Drug Dealers and the Street Life

THE LIFE THEY CHOOSE

Why do young men (especially young black and hispanic males) choose the drug dealer lifestyle?:

Is it a gene inheritance that gets passed down from generation to generation?

Is it because of the environment that these underpriviliged individuals are in that they've become a product of?

Is it because of peer pressures from friends within the same society?

Is it because of the seemingly forever-suffering, sluggish economy and lack of other opportunities (let alone decent ones)?

Is it because that 12 year-old street kid and his two brothers are on the corner with a pocket full of rocks (crack) and nic bags of weed
to help support themselves and their three other siblings, because their parents are out in the street getting high and prostituting
(probably buying crack from one of their teenage children's friends who use to come to their house to play playstation four years earlier)?

The reasons vary, unusually all of the above.


LIVIN THE LIFE

         People get into this life for different reasons. Despite how varying the reasons are, they're main reason is because they need to make a living. Most drug dealers start off as children, most of them already mean-spirited and accomplished troublemakers at school and around the neighborhood, so it's no surprise that they would pick such a lifestyle in an enviornment that supports who they are... the mean streets. And they easily get caught up in a lifestyle of:

Fast money (quick fast money that's gone as quick as fast food),

Fly cars (gently used vehicles at best, if not hoopty's) and, fast women (hoodrats; shysty, back-stabbing hood-chicks; booger-bears with low self-esteem; and ride-or-die gangsta' chicks).

As teenagers drug dealers are usually in gangs, the idea of always having a big system of friends will really make them start feeling like they're untouchable, especially when they on the block. Especially if it's a sidestreet in an crime-ridden, inner-city neighborhood.


MENTALITY OF THE HUSTLA'

         We all wear different hats throughout the course of the day in our adult lives. And it's impossible for the experiences (rather positive or negative) that we go through not to take some long term affect on our mentality. You've gotta to keep up with the politics of whatever profession you're in if you want to succeed in it, and there's no pity out there in the streets, so the drug dealers that aren't as notorious soon change their tune after getting caught up in such a lifestyle, as the biggest of them (too say the least) becomes extremely self-involved and self-centered, if not completely self-fish, arrogant and uncaring. Some of them feel like they can say whatever they want to say to whoever they want (especially when they on their own block and feel high and mighty) and dare you to say anything back. If it's something that represents a certain cause or movement that you're a part of that they don't represent and feel it's worth poking fun at, you better not poke fun at them in the same exact way. And they have this attitude toward a lot of things that they do (not just verbally), much like a lot of people in general (gang affiliated or not). They have a mentality that, despite knowing that they're wrong for instigating, they feel that they should have special priviliges to express themselves however they feel and expect people to be tolerant (it's hard sometimes to ignore unruly louts, who's probably only trying to start a fight anyways)
. But their patience with how they deal with the scenario when the tables are turned don't exactly run parallel. That's a self-fish sense of self-pride they've developed, probably starting from childhood, that has strengthened over the years. And running around with a gang that'll pamper them in times of minimal need (fifteen boys running up to save one of their own from gettin' they a** kicked by two rival gangbangers for instance) will definitely fuel that type of ego. And a kid too... it'll have them feeling like they tha' baddest mutha****** alive. People are more overly in-love and overly protective about their own feelings, opinions and views these days than ever before. And it seems like embarrassment is mankind's biggest form of humiliation as people try to avoid this senario like a cancer, from there self-pride goes into overdrive.

         While all of these guys carry themselves like they're "the man", a lot of them are mama's boy's, as they continually stay at home and leech off they mammies til' they finally go away to (not the county for a few months) prison, or til' mom passes on. Because they got a kid or two, perhaps a car (some hoopty that they keep patching up so they can run their days full of errands), the price of gas, probably paying child support, etc., etc... and don't want a 9 to 5, because they much rather be a businessman (lmfao) of sorts and hang out in the street to smoke and sell they're product and be their own boss, they feel that their being independent. It seems like a businessman would want his own place to live, but I guess it's more convenient to stay with sweet ol' mom, because the landlord (slumlord or not) will want to see proof of income.

         Whaddaya do now hustla's, just tell him/her you're self-employed, as if the landlord don't have enough worldly experienced to ween out drug dealers and people who have potential to be trashy tenants? And for other obvious reasons (such as loyalty and nurturing), mom's crib is the first choice a minimum street wage thug will want to stay at. The second choice would be, baby's momma. Then there's that dumb, easy girl on the side whom they don't really like, but they can do whatever they want with em', (including setting up shop in they're apartment). And finally there's the old buddy/roomie option, which usually get's messy for a multitude of reasons, because it's two thug egos involved.

         Some are to the point where they schedule everything around what they want to do, have people to meet them places that they decide not to show up at, because they're capable of changing their mind at the very last minute without even a simple phone call. And they know this is wrong because they'll never call you back ever again, because they know you're mad (who wouldn't be). And they're excuse is usually something to the sarcastic tone of "I'm a businessman!" Naturally they wouldn't do this to family (perhaps), or better yet someone that they are dependent on, or someone they fear and respect, or someone that has influence over them, like the people they cop from. They treat all other relationships too casually, as they carelessly blow people off, not caring about who they upset, or who's feeling's they hurt or, or who's time they may have wasted, only to have the same thing happen to them. It's called karma. They'll be cussing like a sailor, but it'll be they're time to reap some of the careless deeds that they've sowed. "What goes around comes around"... it's just a design of the world (as a reminder to do unto others the way you'd have them do unto you). I know, it sounds corny, but apparently it still has some relevance. But if you were to tell them that, they'd laugh at you or get mad. Some may take heed to it and try to chance after seeing how some of their selfish ways came back to haunt them in the forms of other people. For others, this type of change may be a more evolutionary experience for the simple fact that a true leopard never changes his spots.


THE EFFECTS OF THE GAME

         Most of these guys out here in these streets don't really have any long term goals outside of where's their next dollar, or next good inventory supply (to have their clients fiending) is coming from. There are some guys who use the dope game exclusively as a stepping-stone to get someplace else in life, then they let it go. There are some who do it on the side while they work a regular job to make ends meet. Then you have the one's who are on the streets (or run errands by car) all day, everyday. For the most part, I don't think the these studs "actually" like hustling, but most these guys aren't raised with the values of aiming to reach outside of their immediate enviornment to do something else. And they realize that it takes years of paying dues, studying and homing your craft before you can start making decent money from it, so the motivation to do anything else isn't there. Perhaps they may pick up other life-long skills along the way (auto-body, electrical, security, barber for instance) but all it is a casual skill to them, nothing more.

         They know it's possible that they can get set-up (usually by someone they piss off), pulled over by the police after coming back from re-copping, or maybe even killed. But people don't like to think this way, it makes them too nervous. It's best to think that everything's gonna be juu-u-ust fine. Just take it one day at a time for the rest of your life is how they like to see it. Then one day reality happens, they get pulled over and have cocaine and weed (a lot of it), a couple of X pills and a gun in the car. Plus, a warrant (don't ask why these dummies never go to court for simple stuff they know'll get thrown out... probably too hungover). From there, it's off to jail for a long, long time, 6-10 years, maybe longer.

         Then when they get out, most of the people they use to hang with is either gone away, relocated, or dead (including mom). They're estranged from their now teenaged or adult kids who haven't seen them in years, and are too busy in the street, chasing and spending that fast cash money to be bothered with a middle-aged burn-out. And besides, they've been hearing for years that dad's a dumb, bum-a** loser. The main people they use to cop from may or may not still be in commission. And if they are, who's to say if they still have the same level clout they once had on the street. And look at all the bridges they've carelessly burnt along the way (some of these people might could help them out right about now).

         Maybe they do have some skills and'll attempt to try to find a regular job through a community career center. But what are the chances of an ex-con, who probably hasn't had a job in close to twenty years (if ever), getting hired at GM or Ford? Some of these men can't escape their drug dealer lifestyle because they're too tied to whatever gang their in, and won't be able to make it on they're on because the dope game is all that they know. And if they hadn't gotten out of it by around the time they reach 25 (at the oldest), most likely they won't. They'll be in it til' they get caught up (a gradual process that they take for granted), or killed. It's such a thing as being trapped in a certain frame of mind, and this isn't a good lifestyle to just simply depend upon for the reasons being.

         There's pitfalls to every lifestyle, and I talked with a lot of middle-aged and older people who were once deep in the small-time drug game. And to this day, I haven't met one person who was really truly satisfied with the outcome. They've all started with smoking marijuana, then were gradually introduced to people who used stronger drugs like heroine, cocaine, meth, etc. (since they sold it, themselves), then and after a period of time became victims of their own product. And in addition to being in-and-out of jail for most of their whole lives (not to mention that one, year's-long prison stretch that most of them catch) some people eventually lose their nerve, especially if they can't get caught with any illegal substances (like most ex-cons, especially if they receive parole). I've heard a lot of them say if they could take back the day they've ever started getting high and got into the dope game, they would've stay away from that life and went further in school.

         Believe it or not, there's an employment search engine that cater to ex-cons as well at: http://jobs.lovetoknow.com/Ex-Convicts_Search_for_Employment. For local community resource centers who cater to ex-cons and felons, go to www.google.com, and type in local community resource centers or local employment centers and sees what comes up.




                   Til' my next piece...
                             DAYDREAM, BABY!