I paid my little sister $50 for her urine. She would pee in a plastic cup, put saran wrap around it and then slip it to me when our Mom was at yoga. After a few months, my sister got greedy.
“The price is now $100.” Dinah had her thin arms crossed and her face looked hard. She was only ten.
“Are you fucking kidding me? I’m not paying you a $100.”
“Do you want to keep your job?”
I wanted to slap the little brat. I regularly smoked weed and sometimes did a few lines of coke on Saturday when I was with my friends at a bar. I worked for an aircraft manufacturer. I was only in marketing but they made the whole company do monthly drug tests. It was such a pain. When I got my sister’s pee I poured it into a Ziploc bag and then on the day of the test stuffed it into my vagina. Nature’s perfect pocket.
“I’ll give you $75.”
“I’m trying to negotiate, Dinah.”
“I’ll tell Mom and Dad what you’ve been making me do. You’ll lose your job.”
I started crying and she sighed, stomped off to the bathroom and came back with a plastic cup.
“I’ll do it for $70.”
I paid her and then left. Well, not before stealing food from the kitchen.
Dinah yelled. “If you take the Oreos I’m telling Mom everything.”
I put the Oreos back and stole the chocolate covered pretzels. The next day I emptied the pee in the cup with a smile and waved bye to the nurse collecting the urine. My plan was working so well.
A week later my boss called me into his office.
“You’re urine came back positive for amphetamines. Adderall. You’ll have to bring in a prescription.”
“What?” My sister screwed me. I didn’t have a prescription.
I called Dinah. “Why is there Adderall in your pee?”
“Oh, I’ve been buying pills off a twelve-year-old boy at school. That’s what I do with your money.”
“I failed the test, Dinah. I need a prescription tomorrow. To show my boss.”
“Bring $200. The boy who sells me Adderall has a prescription pad. His Dad’s a doctor.”
“Fuck.” I drove to Dinah’s school. She was standing next to a preppy-looking kid in a button down and tie.
“I got your script. Where’s the green?”
“Jesus,” I said. “You kids are out of control.”
Dinah laughed. “Says the woman smoking weed and doing coke.”
“I didn’t do that shit at twelve.”
The boy shrugged his shoulders. “What can I say? Our generation is very advanced and we know something you adults deny. Life is straight up bullshit without drugs. Maybe our generation makes drugs legal.”
“Whatever.” I grabbed the prescription from him but not without getting his business card. He said it was a burner phone and I couldn’t call after 10 PM.
“You have to respect my bedtime, lady. Also, I have a wide selection of drugs. Just let me know.”
That was the day a white twelve-year-old snotty kid from a wealthy family became my dealer.