Late to the party but here we go any way.
So an old high school friend of mine who I had just started hanging out with (this was a couple of years out of school) asked me one day if I could go with him downtown to get something. He'd just got some kind and we would just drive downtown smoke done weed and come back. So naturally, I said sure.
On the way we're smoking his weed and he thanks me for going with him. He says his regular guy is out and he has to go to this shady part of town. Perplexed, I point out that he had some good herb and ask why he needed more.
"Oh, I'm not getting more herb," He says. "I'm going to pick up some dope!"
"Dope...? You mean like heroine?"
"Yeah... Sorry, I didn't want to tell you I really just needed someone to back me up."
He was a good friend once so after another bribe (McDonald's) I relented and said I'd accompany him... (I know, I'm an idiot.)
Turns out the "shady part of town" was just the parking lot across the street from the god damned greyhound station, in the middle of a really busy part of town! Long story short, he and the dealer get arrested. And instead of doing the smart thing and letting me drive away with his car he politely informs the police that his friend is waiting for him in the car. I get arrested.
After a vigorous pat down and surmising that I didn't possess a"kit", the police place me in handcuffs, and put me in the back of the squad car with the dealer. Yay!!
The car starts driving and like it was nothing this guy fishes a thick bundle of cash out of his back pocket and starts counting. In handcuffs, belted into the back seat of a squad car just starts counting. I see nothing but twenties and tried to keep up with his count but I guess I wasn't as practiced as he was. He puts it away leans to his other side and starts doing the same from his other pocket!
Afterwards and much, much to my surprise this guy just looks at me all sad and asks, "Do you smoke Chiba?"
Surprised, I just sort of shake my head and stutter out, "Chiba?"
He explained to me that "Chiba" was what he called heroine (duh) and asked again if I did it out not.
So of course I just say, "No, I've never fucked with it... Do you...?"
I don't know why I asked but I assume for lack of anything else to say and this was just how the conversation evolved...? He laughs at me and says, "No." After some ingrained salesmen pitch about how cheap he'd sell to me. He starts asking me where I'm from and stupid small talk. Then I ask where he's from and he gets this really sad look on his face. He starts counting the first ball of cash again and asks me if I knew how much was there. He tells me he has four thousand dollars in his pockets right now. That he's here trying to send enough money back to Honduras to bring his wife and five year old daughter here because it was safer. That he also wanted to send back enough to bring his parents too, because things were getting more dangerous there but he didn't think he'd be able to. And that now after only being here for a year he's getting arrested and if he didn't go to jail he'd be deported.
He looked so pained and just deflated after telling me all of that I genuinely felt really bad for the guy...
After, when we get to the jail and they confiscate our things and start booking us, my "friend" informed the cops that I don't do heroine and that I was just the unlucky guy in his car, they eventually let me go with a stern warning about heroine use.
I'm glad that the cops were doing what they can to impede the sale and use of heroine but I was mortified that someone felt like the only way they could save their family was to sell it. I hope that guy and his family are OK.
Tl;dr Arrested for suspected possession of an illegal substance. Had a really personal and wholly depressing conversation with an illegal immigrant drug dealer.