“The Plot Thickens”

Since coming down, I’ve learned a lot about crime and criminals. Like, 90% of robberies/ home invasions are an inside job. This truism is apparent in a bunch of PSIs, and then I’ve seen it in action tons of times.

If someone is robbed in prison, usually it’s their bunkie or another cubie in collaboration with others. Someone in the cube has to OK the lick or there’s repercussions. It’s forced me go revise my own history.

My senior year at of University of Michigan–the third, and final one,– had a dope apartment off State St. right above Jimmy Johns Then I let slay move in.

I know, I know, wtf was I thinkin?! I needed the money, aight.

anyways, the primary character in this story, besides myself is my Persian friend. Let’s call him Mo (short for Mohammed, which is like the Arab equivalent to John, Mike, Matt, and Chris).

This particular night, I ha plans at a house party around the corner–they had a tank!–but Mo asked me to get him blow. I wasn’t selling it yet but jus had easy access to shit that wasn’t stomped to shit. However I was selling xans on the sly; or maybe not so slick. I was pretty fucked up around this time.

so before going to the house party, I copped, and grabbed both my cash and xannies, because I didn’t wanna leave so much money at the crib w slay. stupidly.

so I logo the party, hit a few nitrous balloons. Mo leaves Ricks around one, telling me to meet at him place. I say my goodbyes and dip. I’m thinking I can come back later if Mo’s sucks.

I’m not expecting much at Mo’s but I’m thinking there could be a few cute girls there. He’s got roommates after all. But instead, when I run into him a black away, he’s walking back with 3 black guys. This is only significant bc they didn’t really look students. Also, Mo had this weird thing about hanging out with black people, like he went out of his way to, even though this caused him to overlook some red flags and glaring flaws. and also, damn, more dudes?! this didn’t look promising.

also, right off the jump Mo cuts into my about xans, asking questions like a cop. I told him to chill.

When we get to his crib, I throw mo the g, and post up. One of the black guys ask me about the bars, and I tell him I got em. He wants a lot. WO I pull out a bag with a couple hundred yellow and white bars. Everyone’s face lights up.

So the one dude starts asking prices, drawing my attention to the pills and away from one of the others going into the kitchen.

I hear a grunt, and feel the energy in the room totally shift. I look up from the pills to see mo inching into the room with the other dude pointing a gun at the back of his head.

Another one got off the couch to pull out his own burner, which is now a foot away from my forehead. The dude I was talking to had gotten up, pulling a gun out of his pants and aimed it at me, too.

I had a gun pointed at my face and another pointed at my dick. I didn’t know which one scared me more.

They demand the pills, and whatever’s in my pocket. They grab my wallet, take out the several hundred dollars I took with me, and pull my new Air Max’s off my feet. The potential-buyer-turned-stick-up-boi directs me to a room in the corner, where Mo is already cowering, and threatens that for their sake, there better be no one else home. He shuts the door on us.

Mo didn’t seem to worry as much as I did. Hes talking about his laptops gone.All I know is we had to get out of here. The windows in the room are up near the ceiling, and the room itself is on the second floor. Im thinking someone could get killed, tbh…it was my first time as armed robbery victim!

so no shoes and all I jump out the window and run to the nearest street. I stop a cab and explain the situation, like a barefoot madman. He dials 911 and hands me the phone.

I get there’s some rules to the “game” but I wasn’t selling drugs and got robbed of my profits. That was legitimate rent money. I wasn’t gonna make anything on the coke, hoping for a few bumps in gratitude. I’m actually worried Mo or his roommates might get hurt.

The cops come, finding Mo walking around in a daze. They question him and ask him for a statement. He corroborates the armed robbery and its perpetrators.

He lost a laptop and a wallet but I had my rent money and hundreds of pills taken, probably almost $200 all together. So we both got fucked. I thought Mo as equally a victim as myself in this situation.

Now I’m questioning it all. Was he in on the heist? He was reticent with authorities after the fact…like, did he jus meet 3 black dudes at ricks and jus invite them over? that’s kind of gay, if so. Or did he know them. That’d explain how he immediately brought up drugs when I first met up with him.

My own experiences since then suggest something else entirely. I’m remembering that it’s almost always an inside job…

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