Stick Up Pt2 (The City)

Stick Up – Pt 2 (The City)
by MichaelB. Jackson

Virgin was about 27 years old and he had been getting high much longer then we had. Virgin was not someone we would normally hangout with first because he was older than we were, but also because we really did not like him. Virgin acted cool with you but there was something sneaky and slimy about him. He could not be trusted was the general consensus about Virgin.

The thing was that he knew where to score over in Harlem. Most of all, Virgin also had a car and he would shoot us right over to New York City to score, if we paid for the gas and tolls and got him high.
Virgin was about 6’ 3” tall, dark complexion and his eyes were always bloodshot. He had really bad skin with big acne craters and knots on his face and his lips were pink around the inner edge. We thought that was from all the cheap liquor he drank. He had long arms like and these great big hands with long, thick fingers.
Before he became a dope fiend Virgin was that he could play basketball like a god. He was probably the best player in the projects or even in Newark, when he was in his prime.

Virgin had a lot of style and flair on the court. Plus, he could shoot the jumper, take a chump to the basket, dribble the ball from one end of the court to the other with blazing speed and unbelievable control and thrown the dunk down with authority.
He could do all kinds of tricks with the ball like the Harlem Globetrotters. He was the first one I ever saw do the no look pass and the reverse dunk with 3 people playing defense on him.
Virgin could do it all and when he was on the basketball court nobody noticed how ugly he was. Let me put it this way, nobody would mentioned it when he was playing ball. If somebody did crack on him it would be something positive like, “He sure is ugly looking but his ass can play some ball”.

Virgin was also well known around the way for having a really big dick. The stories about the size of Virgin’s dick were legendary. Most of the girls were afraid to go near him. That’s why they called him Virgin because he could not get any…
Me, Willie and Juan put in together and bought 2-quarter ounces of Nicky Barnes’ “Suicide” on 8th avenue and 116th street for $175 each.
We went to a shooting gallery that Virgin knew on 112th street and got high.
We had to give the “houseman” some of the heroin for letting us gets off in the house.
We all had our own works so we did not have to buy or rent any. That would have had to fork over another dollar each or more drugs.
On the drive to New York Virgin seemed really interested about the robbery and kept asking us questions and shit and Juan told him every detail.
All the time were in the City Virgin was still pumping Juan for information.
On the ride from Harlem back to Newark we were not at the George Washington Bridge before Virgin began asking more questions.
Only now he was not only asking about the stick up we had done earlier that day - now he was fishing for information on other hustles we had pulled off recently. That punk was trying to get us to flip on stuff other people had done and we knew about.
It did occur to me then that Virgin was much too interested. I remember at one point asking Virgin. “What are you, the cops, Nigel? You sure are asking a lot of questions.”

Virgin tried to play it off. “Fuck you talkin’ about, the cops? He said with mock offense. “I just wanted to hear what went down. I ain’t got the heart to do that kind of shit”.
Juan was more than willing to continue running his mouth, especially after getting shot up with smack.

We came back to Newark and went to Willie’s apartment. We bagged up 30 or so dime bags to sell and divided the remaining drugs 3-ways, between Juan, Willie and me for personal use.
We figured if we sold these 30 dimes we could make enough to go back to the City and re-up and keep turning it over like that.
We would be able to get high and make some cash at the same time, for a while anyway.
We gave Virgin 2 dimes as payment for taking us to New York. He was not happy about only getting 2 dimes and thought his cut should have been more.
Virgin: “What the fuck is this, niggahs? Two fuckin' dimes for taking 3 muthafuckas to the City to buy dope?”
Willie: “Man we got your as high in New York. We gave you the same shot we all had.”

Virgin: “I didn’t ask ya’ll to get me high over there and I sure didn’t agree that it was part of my money. Man, you young muthafuckas are trying to play me. Ya’ll know the deal.”
Me: “We filled up your empty ass gas tank, that was 26 bucks. You probably only used half a tank to go over and back. We paid the tolls and bought your broke ass a 3-piece meal at Gino’s Chicken. Sounds like you trying to play us”
Virgin was standing in the middle of the floor and he was pissed. His was breathing hard and sweating and his hands were tight in big meaty fists. He wanted to fuck us up, but he had doubts about taking on all three of use at the same time.
“Fuck you niggahs. Ya’ll gonna need another ride and you can kiss my ass”, Virgin spit out as he walked out the apartment. The clang of the metal apartment door reverberated throughout the apartment and the outer hallways as he slammed the door behind him.
Me: “Yeah, you better take your ass outta here cause ain’t nobody gonna need you to give use a ride no where in that raggedy ass car. Yo' ride is so fucked up I was scared the police was gonna stop us on general principal.”
I’ll talk shit, behind your back… Plus, we knew where to score now so we did not need Virgin’s ass anymore.
As far as transportation, there was always the PATH Train out of Newark Penn Station to Penn Station in downtown Manhattan and take the subway uptown to Harlem.
Or we could take a bus to NY Port Authority and subway from there.
Fuck, Virgin!
When Virgin was gone we all looked at each other for a second and burst out laughing.
Of course, Juan took the joke too far falling off the couch onto the floor and almost kicking over the coffee table with the dope cooking up on it.
Willie, exasperated and angry that Juan almost spilled a lot of heroin, “Come on Juan, why do you always have to go overboard and shit? You knockin’ shit over and bout to get a beat-down.”
Juan: “Oh, fuck you Willie, you ain’t gonna beat nobody down over here.”
Willie and Juan had gotten into it a couple of times before. Juan was about, 5’ 1” and he was very self-conscience about his height and always trying to prove himself by talking trash and trying to come off like a pit bull.
Willie would kick Juan’s little ass each time. If someone hadn’t stop the shit Willie would have had to kill Juan or still be beating his ass today because Juan would not quit while he was still conscious. I don’t think Willie really wanted to start in with Juan again.

Fortunately, at that point the dope was cooked and it was time to get high. It was quiet while we each searched our arms for a good vein to insert the needle and inject the heroin. We all sat back one at a time and enjoyed the rush of the heroin making it’s way through our veins and into our brains.
“Damn, this is some good shit”, Juan mumbled in his best slick-slurred dope fiend voice.
The dope was good and all that, but it wasn’t like Juan was acting. He was acting like he in such a deeeeep nod… about to fall out of the chair and shit. Me and Willie just laughed at his dumb ass – than we went into our own nods.
Juan, “Man, now all I need is some pussy!”
For several moments there was silence in the room again, except for the television as we all were into our nods - ,but I had heard what Juan said about getting some pussy.
Finally, I said, “I thought your sister was in rehab?”
Now Willie, who had been holding his breath trying not to exploded into laugher. I tried to keep a straight face and not start laughing myself, but I couldn’t hold it in either. I started cracking up too.
Juan, “What you niggahs laughing at? Fuck you muthafuckas. Don’t be talking that shit about my sister, Mike.
She was high and didn’t know what she was doing.”
Willie and I were still bent over with laughter.
There was strong rumor around the hood that Juan and his sister older sister, Lisa, were caught hitting it with each other in their mama’s house before she went to rehab a few months ago. It was Juan’s mama who caught them and threw them both out.
Lisa went to rehab and Juan moved into the apartment with Willie and me.
Me: “You did.”
“I was high too”, said Juan, all pissed-off and shit, “We was fucked up off those pills. Man, Mike, I’m telling you, you play too much. Don’t be talking that shit about me and my sister.”
We were laughing so hard that we had blown our highs and everything.
That was okay though. We had money, plenty of drugs, a bucket of Gino’s Fried Chick and a place to live… Dope fiend heaven. Life was good.

To Be Continued

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