Everything that makes South Florida the Vice capital of the country--the drugs, the sex, the gambling--is amplified during the week of the Super Bowl. But nothing ruins the perfect party week like someone dying or going to jail. So this week we'll be presenting The Juice Vice Guide to South Florida. We've done the arduous research, taken the dangerous journeys, and interviewed dozens of local experts to bring you the definitive handbook to depravity in the Sunshine State.
After the jump, how to score coke like a local.
Scoring Coke Like a Local
There was a time in South Florida when cocaine simply fell from the sky. Really: Smugglers in airplanes being chased by cops often tried to ditch the evidence by making it snow on the cities below. A kilo once crashed through the roof of a Baptist church during Sunday service.
Today, most of the old cocaine cowboys are either hustling powder in the celestial kingdom or eating taxpayer-bought meat loaf, so it's a bit harder to procure a taste of Bolivian marching powder. But far from impossible.
What type of fiend are you -- the poor soul who braves perilous streets with a few grubby dollar bills clenched in your fist? Or do you just have your marketing intern pick up a vial on the way to the office? Either way, we probably don't want to hang out with you, unless you're that one cokehead out of ten who isn't as annoying as a Lil Wayne album on daylong loop. With that as a disclaimer, let's break down the ways South Floridians procure cocaine nowadays:
Over the phone
Who cops this way: hedge-fund traders, touring musicians, exiled foreign dictators.
How the conversation starts: "Diamond Larry, this is your congressman. Listen, about those resolutions of national importance you're working on: Could I make it five instead of three? Yeah, I'm having company."
Pros: You don't have to leave your penthouse, meaning you can continue to impress those two prostitutes you hired with your immense knowledge of the new Phil Collins album.
Cons: If you call with your cell phone, that's a federal crime. And under the Patriot Act, cops can listen to all of your phone calls. And look out the window! Do you see those black helicopters, man?!
Who cops this way: Prostitutes looking to cut out the middle man, Second Lifers who haven't slept in four days, and, sadly, your little sister.
How the conversation starts: "This ski lift is looking for a cute snow bunny 4 a night-long ride on the slopes! Tons of frost! Come ride the slalom!
Pros: Well, free coke.
Cons: You have to have sex with a very disgusting, dirty, and chubby man.
On the corner
Who cops this way: Individuals who are known around the neighborhood only as "Pink Eye," "Loose Linda," or "That guy who's always trying to sell me a broken VCR."
How the conversation starts: "Red tops! We got red tops!"
Pros: Just $5! (Also, some dealers take stolen jewelry.)
Cons: That's pure laxative you're about to smoke. And that's a cop across the street in the Buick LeSabre. And, man, wasn't that your great-uncle's graduation ring?
From an undercover law enforcement official
We Believe Local Journalism is Critical to the Life of a City
Engaging with our readers is essential to New Times Broward-Palm Beach's mission. Make a financial contribution or sign up for a newsletter, and help us keep telling South Florida's stories with no paywalls.
Support Our Journalism
Who cops this way: That guy Diamond Larry who you used to make runs with.
How the conversation starts: "Hey, bro, it's Diamond Larry. Just made bond, man! What can I say, I got a great lawyer. Hey, listen, wanna make another run?"
Pros: The cops want you to help them nab the guy one step higher on the food chain than you. And you never liked Manolo anyway.
Cons: You have to become George Smith, a grocery bagger in Peoria, Illinois.