I was living out of multiple locations around the Bay Area and had bought a new car for 30 grand. Spending money on friends and expensive dinners, lavish purchases and non-business related travel. Life was good. So we expanded.

We started selling weed in Texas. The clientele was there, the market was there, but building the infrastructure was tricky. On a one way flight out of Texas, I was nearly stopped by a TSA agent, and then allowed to move forward only because the line was backing up. In retrospect, it was a very close call, I had a lot of cash strapped to my chest and legs.

Our business at school was going well and as we moved through the second semester, we were poised to leverage any possible profits. On one successful weekend, over prominent school events, we sold a kilo of cocaine and 7 pounds of weed. After a few sleepless days, I flew back to California with 60 grand on my person.

But as school started to wind down, so did our sales. Concerned about our ability to carry on our successfully operations past graduation, we moved into Texas more and more aggressively. Our market was unlimited but we were confined by our shipping limitations and our Texas connection’s cash flow. Luckily our connection in Texas had close ties with cartel members whose attention we had caught. They requested that we put together a small pack; the only problem, this was outside of our wheelhouse, and we did not have the personnel to transport large quantities of weed.

By now, the business was clearly taking a toll on my person. It was clear that I wouldn’t be graduating this June, and what had started out as general stress had turned into unexpected and full-fledged panic attacks. I had trouble sleeping at night and started relying on over the counter sleep medication to rest.

After much deliberation, we did the unthinkable, putting together a plan to sell 50 pounds in Texas over spring break. The plan was not easy to execute. We had exactly one week to make it happen. My partner flew to California with all the cash we had "out of state". The plan was to use his parents Jeep while they were away for the week to drive to Texas and drop off the product then he fly back to school while I would then fly to Texas and drive the car and cash back to California.

I greeted my friend at the Airport and we went back to his house. Collecting our cash and heading up to Humboldt where I was meeting our California connection. After many hours, driving around looking at our options, we finally settled on product and spent two hours vacuum sealing the weed so that I could drive it back to the Bay Area. I left just before dark, for a 7-hour drive after eating just an apple for the day.

I was unbelievably nervous. I had never driven that much weed before and the only way from Humboldt to the Bay Area is through a stretch of road called the Gauntlet which should speak for itself. I had one spotter driving in front, and another behind me. The hours passed slowly as I weaved through traffic in the dark, often losing my spotter and trailing car. I left my partner’s house at 7am that morning and finally returned at 1am the next day. But this was just the beginning. I spent the rest of the night and the next morning vacuum sealing the product and packing the car. Then my friend left for Texas.

A few nerve-wracking days later, he arrived at the location, where things got off to a bumpy start. Our connection lost a small amount of product in an unfortunate robbery situation, but the cartel purchased the rest of our product for just over 200 grand. We were more than half way there. I arrived the next night in Texas at 12am. My friend picked me up at the airport and we went back to a location outside of Houston. For the first time in my life, I held nearly a quarter million dollars in cash. A triumph to say the least, I was 23 years old.

I left at 4am that morning without sleeping. There was not a single car on the road. Then out of nowhere, a car starts trailing me. Seconds later, lights flash and that car is pulled over. I can only assume that the cop pulling over the only other car on the road, in Texas, in the middle of the night, was coming for my car with California license plates. Without an option, I pushed on rattled, knowing that I very well might have made one of the worse decisions of my life. I drove from Houston to the Bay Area in 27 hours. Stopping only to nap for an hour at a time – so exhausted and sleep deprived that when I would awake from a nap, it would take what seemed like an eternity to figure our where I was and what I was doing. Thinking about it still makes me nauseous to this day.

How did I get here? What was I doing? I do not know. The gravity of the situations I found myself in, the effort that went into planning our deals, was beyond anything I could have ever imagined. My partner and I found ourselves only a few deals away from supplying a major cartel with quality weed from California. There was some talk of turning back, some reflection into our futures, and then the determination that you don’t come this far just to quit. Once you’re in the game, there is no letting go, there are no easy exits.

I arrived in California much relieved and with two shoeboxes full of cash, stashed safely in my parents house. Our business with the school had more or less ended, or wasn’t worth the effort and we settled in for a brief vacation. But we were poised to take over. We had a brief window of time before our California connection was leaving the country for several months. Anxious not to let the prospect die, we orchestrated an even bigger transaction, some 150 pounds for over half a million dollars.

But things had changed considerably, having survived our Texas trip, my friend and I refused to make the journey, arguing that as the main connections between California and Texas, we were too important to be transporting the product. Fortunately our California connections were able to secure transport at a hefty but reasonable rate. It was getting late in the season and prices were less than favorable. But we were able to source product that made the deal worthwhile. And after investing 200 grand of our hard earned money, the pack left California.

But somewhere along the border of Mexico our driver was pulled over. Brandishing a California driver license in a car with Texas plates, he never stood a chance and is still serving time. My only regret is that we were confident enough to put everything we had into the deal. You might say our luck had run out, and after getting one of the worst calls of my life, the deal was canceled. I was broke.

My trafficking business ended just as quickly as it started. Everything we had worked for over the past two years vanishing suddenly. I was lost and scared. Having completely abandoned interest in a professional career or a real job, my resume hadn’t been updated in two years. I was basically unemployable as we headed into a severe financial crisis.

I tried momentarily to rebuild our business but was exhausted and emotionally depleted. It was more difficult for me to accept the finality of this situation that my friend who was more apt for the professional world with good grades and a masters in finance. He had also been receiving considerable allowance from his parents while we had both been living off drug money. Saving considerably over the past two years.

The next year, I claimed only 5000 dollars worth of income. But at the very least, I had bought enough toys to keep myself entertained and I still had my car, for which I struggled to make the final payments, while I lived at my parent’s house. Out of desperation, I confessed to my parents who somehow, had no idea.

What I found remarkable is what we were able to build through hard work and determination. What’s it like to be a drug dealer? It means the things you see, people you encounter, and the life you lead have little foundation in reality. The risks are immense and the rewards, even greater.

We had reached a point, where we couldn’t turn back and to this day, I don’t know whether it was about the money or if it was the rush. After the first Texas trip, I realized that it wasn’t just about money, drug dealing is gambling with your life, a most sadistic rush.

But selling drugs was the best preparation I could have asked for, entering the real world. Now equipped to handle situations that it takes others years to prepare for. More than anything, selling drugs taught me to believe in myself and what I’m capable of. It taught me to trust my instincts and how to make difficult decisions.

I was the kid in high school that teachers and good students wrote off. But looking back, even with my stint as a drug dealer, few people in my past can compare successes to that which I have experienced. Of course with that success came immense failure for better or for worse. And the toll it took on my health and psyche probably wasn’t worth it. But had it not been for those experiences I wouldn’t be where I’m at now.

After some time, I was fortunate enough to land an excellent position at a startup in LA that suits my personality perfectly. My friend and I reminisce fondly, wondering what life would have been like had that one deal gone through.