Well, we're up to Colorado. This is so hard to talk about even 13 years later, but I'm sure it's important enough to plow through it.
As I said, before Colorado, I was the golden child. I was selling 10-15 subscriptions a day. They were giving me $50 draws every night and even letting me take off drops during the work day just to chill with my car handler Tiny. Life was good, and I laughed at the W.A.B.s (mag crew speak for weak ass bitches) who couldn't even get 3 sales in one day.
When we arrived in Denver I couldn't believe how beautiful it was and how many joust (easy sell) neighborhoods there were. So our first day my van headed to Littleton and I was ready to kick ass. My first drop was in your typical suburban McMansion hood. These were always my specialty. I had 2 hours and I was sure I'd pull at LEAST 4. By the end of the whole day I had only 1.
The bosses were nice and said that everyone has off days. I would do better tomorrow, tear it up, get a bunch!
Skip forward 3 more days, I had sold 4 ALL WEEK. Bob pulled me in his motel room and got about 2 inches from my face and screamed until I thought my eardrums would burst. I asked for my draw with tears in my eyes. He threw me a ten and said "Have fun eating all day on that WAB!"
I couldn't believe it! How could everything have changed so drastically in such a short time. I went in tears to Tiny's room. He said, "You need a drink girl!" Seemed like a good idea at the time so we headed to the gas station and I spent my entire draw on bottles of St Ide's Special Brew. After about 3 it didn't seem to matter so much....
Soon I was spending every night with Tiny drinking and before long we were an item. I felt superior to everyone else because my poison was not so bad.
You see when we got to CO, the other crew members discovered a fairly new drug that would make them work like mad, it was called Crystal Meth. I didn't want anything to do with it because frankly it scared the shit out of me when I saw what it did to people. Others were not as fortunate. There was a kid on our crew (and I do mean kid he was 16) who was snorting copious amounts and soon graduated to smoking. Mikey was being enabled by the bosses who knew he was using. They praised the spike in his sales and told him to keep it up (with a wink), I wish I was joking.
Mikey was the sweetest guy before. Once he was hooked he got agitated and paranoid, not himself at all. I wanted to talk to him, but what could I say? I didn't have the guts to stand up to the bosses.
Well we were set to jump to Utah in 2 days and the motel was quiet that night. At about 2 AM I heard a yell from the room 2 doors down where Mikey and Al were staying. Mikey's heart had stopped, no pulse no response, nothing! We all rushed over terrified. The boss ran over and threw him in the van and sped off.
We all waited for the next hour for news. Finally the van pulled up. We all looked at Bob expectantly. He just shrugged and said, "I'm assuming he's dead, not like I waited to find out. He was a WAB who couldn't handle it, no great loss." That's an exact quote.
I just stood there frozen. HE WAS 16! He had the heart of an angel and gave his life so he could sell more magazines. Then he was dumped at the ER doors like so much trash. No one said a word (like I said CULT) We just packed up that morning and left town
In hindsight although I know there was nothing I could have done to help him that night as he was already gone, why did I not have had the courage to stand up to the bosses. This is one of those things I will carry till I die. Maybe someday I will forgive my inaction, who knows.
That's all I can do tonight. I think that's enough. Tomorrow- what happened to Charlie on the jump to Utah and my bad news relationship of pain and codependency with Tiny. As always, thanks for reading and God bless!