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These Bills (standard:non fiction, 1275 words)
Author: Abraham MasadaAdded: Dec 15 2002Views/Reads: 1659/1113Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
This story places me in a large city one day years ago, desperate for a "fix," cocaine in this case. I actually forge American currency and use this as real money in order to purchase cocaine---many nights ago.
 



THESE BILLS 

I can't forget the time that I forged some bills, like in money. It was
one hell of a rush. I remember that I did not even have a laser 
printer. so I had to crumple up the bills I produced (in this case, ten 
dollar bills)to make for the lack of detail my cheaper printer would 
produce. I was going through some serious cocaine use, and I was 
quickly running out of money. Someone once told me, if I remember 
correctly, that cocaine is the champagne of drugs. Whatever it is, it 
is expensive! All that mattered to me one day a few years ago was 
having that fix. Nothing else mattered, not even prison. I had to have 
twenty dollars to buy a little bag, and I only had about fifteen 
dollars on me. Then I remembered that I had a scanner, and a conniving 
idea went through my head. Why not take a ten dolar bill and make 
copies of it? So I decided to give it a go. 

My injet printer would only print on one side, so I took the ten dollar
bill and gently placed it on my scanner. Surely the color would be off, 
I thought. I scanned it. I hear that that in itself is a federal 
offense. My heartbeat went up as I saw the image show up on my 
computer's screen. Suddenly there it was; I had that lovely image on my 
hard drive. The trick would now be to print it, so I did, and out came 
a page with a picture of one side of a ten dollar bill. I took the real 
ten, put it next to the printed one, and compared. It was beautiful! It 
mean, it worked like a charm. What struck me the most was how close my 
printer had managed to get the color right. True, it was only one side, 
but I would soon solve that problem. 

I printed about ten more copies of this bill; then I scanned the other
side. Now I had both sides on my hard drive. I now had some serious 
incriminating evidence in my computer. I then printed some copies of 
the other side of the bill. If things were perfect, I could simply 
print one side, turn the page over, then print the other side. And this 
is exactly what I did. Unfortunately, the front and the back did not 
quite line up, so when I cut one side of the bill very carefully with 
some scessors, the other side was all screwed up with white showing 
along some edges and the other edges simply chopped off. But would you 
believe that after working on it for a few hours, I finally got it 
right. I tried to fool some friends who were living with us, and it 
worked. I said, "Look, I am going to burn a ten dollar bill." They were 
flabbergasted, but I think that they suspected I had printed it. 

I made about ten more copies and tucked them away inside a large
dictionary, using thin, latex gloves while I did this. I knew some of 
my fingerprints would show up eventually when they confiscated these 
bills, but I just did not want to be the one with the most prints on 
them. That would give me away too easily. Mine would just blend in with 
everyone else's, I figured, as others handled them. As the sun set, it 
was time to put these bills to the test. I took two, crumpled them up, 
unfolded them, then I put one in the left pocket of my pants with some 
ones and put the other bill with the real one, folded together, in my 
right pocket. I was ready. I got on my bicyle (I had no damn car), and 
peddled my way over to my favorite bar. I thought I was pretty calm for 
what I was about to do. I was about to give a drug dealer, who I was 
well acquainted , counterfeit money in exchange for drugs. I was that 
desperate for a high! 

As I entered the bar, it was relatively crowded for that time of night.
The man who held control to my anticipated bliss was there. What a 
relief! Another good thing on my side was that the bar was relatively 
dark and bills were hard to make out. My heart started beating faster 
as I approached the front bar and ordered a beer. "Please give me a Bud 
Light," I said. I took the fake ten from my left pocket and gave it to 
him. I could feel my heartbeat!! The bartender said "Hi" and gave me my 
change. I got eight dollars back, and I assumed they were real. It's 
funny how people assume the authenticity of bills we receive fromk the 
commercial establishment. I gulped my beer down and ordered another 
one, then another one. Now the trick was to buy my fix. 

The drug dealer had grown to trust me, as far as me being a cop or narc,
but he would not give me credit. We had signals we would use, and I 
told him to meet me in the bathroom, which was also not so well lit. 
Beer in hand, I entered the dingy bathroom and my "friend" the drug 
dealer would soon follow. I asked for one bag, he gave it to me, and I 
gave him the two tens. He looked at them and placed them with the rest 


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