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tolerance, but I kept doing lines with them, and then suddenly I started feeling my heartbeat accelerating, I could feel it boom boom boom, it was difficult to breathe, so I started quickly drinking bourbon and coke, vodka and lemonade, just drinking a lot because that stabilises you again. I had to go and sit in the corner. I felt real bad for a while, really paranoid and sick. If you have too much, you feel you are going to die.

Alberto had many small clients, which were his stable income when the big deals went quiet for a month or two. Selling was just part of his daily routine and his customers knew the code. 'Can we have a cup of coffee later? I think I'm going to bring three friends, is that okay?' He'd know that the customer wanted 3 grams. He sold other drugs too and if he wasn't sure what they wanted, he'd say something cryptic, but translatable. 'Okay, you want black coffee?' for hashish, 'Or would you rather drink some milk?' for coke.

'You use whatever clicks in the minute, talking about white, black, green, okay let's meet for a coffee later.'

He was always wary and often went to a café early to stick the packet of drugs underneath a seat, using tape or a Band-aid, to avoid having it in his pocket when the client arrived. Then he'd change seats, order food or coffee and call the contact, saying, 'Okay, I'm here in Café Moca,' - or Bali Deli, or Zanzibar, or Bali Bakery - always changing spots - 'can you come here now?'

The person would come and sit, 'So, did you mean you wanted 3 grams of Charlie?' Alberto would ask.
'Yeah, yeah.'
'Okay. So you have $300?'
'Yeah, so where is the stuff?'
'Under your seat, just put your hand there.'