I remember an interesting trip to Chicago. I believe it was somewhere around January. A friend of mine and I were heading into Englewood. Headed for 56th and green st. The guts. One of the toughest areas in the city. I had been getting the Heroin that was cut with Fentanyl for quite some time now. It was killing people left and right. So I knew it was good. I just always made sure to hold back on the number of bags I did, because at this point in my using, dying still scared me. Zig zagging our way at break neck speeds down the Borman and then the Dan Ryan we were making really great time. When I had the Accord I once made it from Portage to this spot in 27 minutes. Which, I don’t know if you are familiar with this trip, but that is excellent time. Neither one of us had a cell phone, I had traded my Droid for a couple bags a week prior, and I’m sure my current partner did the same. So we had to stop off in the city to use a payphone. The only one I knew of was right off of 75th street. I think. So we exited the expressway and made our way for the Citgo gas station. After a few tries my dealer answered. Dope dealers rarely answer on the first try. I let him know I was close. That I would be there in about ten minutes. He asked for my order and I let him know I was coming for 26 bags. 200$ worth. I didn’t have a cell phone, but I had 200 dollars to spend on dope, I know, I was thinking the same thing. So I jumped into the van and off we went. heading toward the spot he told me to go to, a place I hadn’t been to, I think it was 61st and Sangamon. I didn’t think anything of it. On we went. What I didn’t know, was that the task force had just raided my guy’s spot on green, and were now using his cell phone to trap customers in an abandoned apartment building, just south of his place. I had been talking to the cops the whole time. I followed the voice’s directions, to a T. Pulling up outside the building, I swiveled my head in all directions, looking for any potential threats to my operation. My hood went over my head, my hands in my sleeves, to cover up any white skin, and I jumped out of the van, and headed for the stairs leading to the building. I knocked on the door, the voice asked who it was, I replied ” it’s steve man!” The door swung open and there it was, cold hard steel. Or whatever the hell that thing was made out of. I hate guns. I know nothing about them. What I do know, is that this man had one, and the business end of it was pointing directly through my left eye and into my brain, which would very quickly be exiting the back of my skull if I even so much as flinched. Or, so he said. Waiting behind him were at least ten of his team mates, all in black Carhart jackets, beenies, and ball caps, with large weapons on their hips. On the floor lining the wall all around the apartment, were junkies. Even a few I knew. They had to have been doing this for a few hours, and business was good. I was dragged into the building, slammed onto the floor and cuffed. And not in a very polite way either. I was slapped in the face repeatedly. Told what a disgrace to human life I was, spit on, and once I was on the floor, kicked in the stomach, ribs, and shins. One man pinned me down while the other officer emptied my pockets. He took the 200 dollars I had on me and deposited it directly into his pocket. Looked at me with a sinister grin and told me to enjoy cook county jail. They pulled my pants down around my ankles and sat me back against the wall. I watched this same treatment of others coming in for several hours. Beat, strip, shakedown, pin. Repeat. When the cops had decided that they were satisfied with their take, which was probably a several thousand dollars, they uncuffed us all and let us just walk out the front door. My buddy was still waiting outside in the van. He had been waiting for 5 hours. And would no way believe what just happened. He didn’t and of course, I was a thief. I wouldn’t have believed it if the roles were reversed. So how could I expect him to? We were both extremely dope sick and pissed now, and broke. So we made our way back toward Portage empty handed. The next day would be even worse. I was really in a rough patch.