how many of the kids I work with are drug dealers. I think I've definitely worked with a few of them over the years. (background: I'm a vendor at Safeco Field, home of the Seattle Mariners.)
It'd certainly be easy to use the job as a cover. Sick of nosy parents asking about all your cool, new stuff? Sick of your neighbors gossiping about your new car? Sick of your teachers getting suspicious? Just tell them you work at the ballpark.
As vendors, we make a 15% commission on everything we sell. While I average $60 a game, there are guys in my company that easily sell way more than that. Sadly, my brother and I brought a friend in to work that quickly outpaced us in sales. He makes at least $150 a game, and often more (which means I get really ticked when he bitches about his poor day of selling during the car ride home. I wonder how he'd feel if our positions were reversed?).
Most of the guys sell about the same as me, or perhaps a touch better. There are a few that sell worse than me . . . but they always seem to have fancy, spotless new name-brand shoes, diamonds in their ears, and stories of the wild party from the night before.
Now, I could easily say "well, they spend their money differently than I do." My cash goes to books, school expenses, traveling, and photography (and my blog costs :-). I suppose that, if they wanted to, they might have enough money to spend on the fancy things they have.
But I do wonder when we have vendors that show up sporadically but always seem to be flush with cash. It'd be so easy to tell your mom that you make a ton of cash at the ballpark, because there are guys who do. Meanwhile, these guys can be lazy and slink around the ballpark . . . and sell their drugs at home.
Perhaps it's a fantasy, but I sometimes I like to daydream at work, and it's always fun to joke around about working with drug dealers.
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