Post Office

post office Hawking stolen goods is often much harder than stealing them in the first place. Most petty criminals don’t have a retail channel to push their acquired items through and keeping inventory on hand is just bad for business. After a few false starts (mainly the video editing equipment debacle) Tyler and Eddie came upon a good target audience, drug dealers. Their stock in trade was stealing from our high-school which seemed to have an endless supply of digital scales which were very popular amongst the dealers in our town.

This incident began like most others as a mixture of opportunity and boredom. There was a post office in a shitty strip mall located between Eddie’s place and our friend Paul’s house. We pretty much went past it every day as we shuttled between locations and the variety store was the source for my daily chocolate milk, snickers and cigarette addictions. Just inside the window was a massive digital scale. Every-time we wandered by Tyler and Eddie would look longingly at it and imagine the large quantities of drugs that could be measured if only it could somehow break free from a life weighing mail.

One late night Tyler, Eddie and Jimmy “Rat-Face” decided after getting high that they would free the scale. They made their way over to the post office and faced their first dilemma; how do we get in? Tyler was feeling in the brute force mood so he dispatched Rat-Face to find a large rock while Eddie and him smoked a joint(which worked out well as they didn’t want to share). A few minutes later Rat-Face re-appeared with a large stone. Tyler grabbed it and tossed it through the window [SMASH].

As misfortune would have it the scale was just on the other side of the window and took the full force of the rock. This fact did not make itself present at the time of the crime. The boys grabbed the large scale and returned quickly to the safety of Eddie’s basement. Once back they discovered that indeed the scale had been broken during the break in and was non-functional. They also realized to their dismay that the smallest metric the scale would measure in was ounces. Now for Pablo Escobar it would have been just fine but for the hair-metal, lowball weed dealers in our town this was way too high a barrier for entry. If they couldn’t do grams it was way overkill.

The scale hung around Eddie’s basement for weeks and several fruitless attempts were made to both fix it and sell it. I am not sure what ended up happening with it but the boys learned a valuable lesson.

Always have a buyer, do your research and plan your entry.

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