Skip to main content

Bust'n Scripts by Mark Anthony Given

____________________
Just wrote that this morning.  It ain't brag'n if you can do it....
____________________

Son, I have done them all, and Dilaudid's the best. -Elvis Presley
_____________________

             I HAD THIS FANTASY of walking into a small town pharmacy, calling the pharmacist over while bending over the counter and wrote: 
Dilaudid 4 mg.,
Disp. L (50)
Sig:  1 Q 4-6 H
PRN Pain,
scribble a signature and circle Five Refills, but I usually sat out in the parking lot and wrote them beforehand.  I would usually put an expensive antibiotic with them.  The guy who got me started bust'n scripts wore a black eye patch over his left eye where a failed drunken suicide attempt left the whole area scarred up.  He would pull that pirate patch off and replace it with a two-inch gauze pad and medical tape so you could see all you needed to see and they would throw pain pills at him.  Ninety percent of the time as long as it's written correctly and there are no known alerts on that doctor, you look respectable you got 'em.  I saw people shave their head and draw boxes with a purple marker like radiation treatment... I had a whole different scam it worked like a charm.
           ANY GIRLFRIEND I ever had, especially if they have children have prescriptions they couldn't afford to fill laying around.  I'd white-out all the handwriting, make a copy of that, touch up the spots where the writing went over the lines, make another copy of that and walla, a blank prescription. I'd cut it to the right size, take a red magic marker and run it across the top to make it look like it was torn off a pad and it was time to go to work.  In the back of old dictionaries, you can find out what the signs and scribbling the doctor means.  The first script I walked was in Mid-city, New Orleans at the biggest pharmacy chain in New Orleans about a quarter to six in the evening, an all white neighborhood in a very black city.  




 Percodan Tabs
 # L (fifty)
 Sig: 1 q 4-6 H
 PRN Pain


          and drew a line through the refills meaning none and made it out to "Anne Laurent," who I looked up and lived in the neighborhood.

         They were as busy as hell, just like I like it and I  had a business suit and a thirty dollar hair cut (back in the eighties).  Give it to the girl, she asks for the address and date of birth which I just guess at and told her I was waiting for it but I left. 
           SITTING IN the parking lot a couple of stores away and wait for the cops.... 


                WHEN THE COPS didn't show up and an hour and a half later I go back to the store and in nearly all their stores is a phone bank with two phones right out front up against the store.  I could stand on my tippy toes and see into the store all the way to the pharmacy.  I'd call the pharmacy and ask if it was ready.  What's the doctor's name? I tell her, she says's their ready, I ask how much they are and what time they close.  I'm watching every move she makes: Is it in the same colored bags as the others?  Does she cover the phone and talk to the pharmacist?  Does she put it back in the bin?  If it all looks normal, I wait a little while and go get it.... Thirty-six Dilaudids is eighteen-hundred dollars on the street and they will beat your door down for them.  Show up at four in the morning with thirty-two dollars and eight-dollars of food stamps...
            I WALKED AT least a hundred scripts and never got caught even though it was totally played out in New Orleans before I even got in the game.  Dilaudid, Percodan, Loritabs, all that was totally blowed up so I had to come up with something new.  Same trick with the same dog but a new bone:  Tussionex Suspension cough syrup where every tablespoon is equal to one five milligram hydrocodone and you take a couple good swigs of this stuff your whole face and balls will feel like raw hamburger tomorrow from the dope feign scratch.  In fact, you will wake up tomorrow still loaded.... I found it in a medicine cabinet once prescribed to the family dog, it was simple to get and nobody heard of it and could get five refills without batting an eye.    I would cut it with Pineapple juice and could sell all I could get my hands on.

Tussionex Susp.
Disp. 8 oz.
Sig: 1 tea q 6-8 h
PRN severe cough

 YOU DON'T LIVE by your wit's and fleet of foot without having some close calls and the first few times I did I nearly got caught.  Pharmacist out in Laplace, twenty minutes down the interstate from New Orleans, about thirty-five, sandy colored hair and slightly overweight followed me out of the pharmacist and a couple of stores down in the little strip mall I see him coming up behind me his white lab coat flapping and pens flying.  I look over my shoulder and see him picking speed but still fifty feet or so behind me I bolt.  I had parked my burnt orange Camaro in the back but I couldn't lead him to my car I wouldn't make a mile down the interstate they grab me so went straight into miles and miles of sugar cane but it was all cut down.  Soon as I left the pavement a twenty foot deep and wide drainage ditch half full of disgusting stinking water but I went straight into it.  By the time I got to the other side he was standing there on the bank but he wasn't getting in that shit.  He hollered at me something but I don't remember now.  Soon as he got out of my sight, this was before cell phones, I hurried back to my car and drove back to New Orleans soaked to the bone and smelling like alligator and turtle shit with reeds in my hair but still free try somewhere else...
              ANOTHER CLOSE CALL at a little Mom & Pop pharmacy in Metarie along the service road to Interstate 10 where they had to buzz you in an electric lock door probably to keep the niggers out.  After I give it to him he goes back up to his perch and starts drinking coffee. 
"Can I wait for it?
"You can wait right there for the Jefferson Parrish Sheriff's Office, there on their way for you.  Dope feign panic mode I run to the door and it's locked, he has to buzz you out too!  What the fuck?  I ran around in the little store like a rat in the cage looking for a way out and there was none.  I get back to the front door and knocked over a few displays and started pulling on that double glass door with all my might and it was coming open if I had to pull it off the hinges.  I started kicking the glass.
 "Don't you break my damn door!"
 "I'm going to let you out of here this time, but you tell all your dope feign buddies don't come in here with this shit!"
 Now the door was jammed and he had to come down and let me out somehow.  It was about ten-thirty on an overcast morning and an all gravel parking lot and I felt like I had been reborn getting out of there and I knew I only had seconds before one of the most aggressive law enforcement agencies in the US and has its jails packed to the brim to prove it... I spanked their ass like all the rest but I trod lightly in Jefferson Parrish.  I was in my car not a half-mile away and first I seen a blacked out dark car with a blue light on the dash board pass me then a shit load of lights and sirens blew right by me going the wrong way if they wanted to catch me....
10:04 AM 8/20/2014



Popular posts from this blog

My Appointment With the Devil by Mark Anthony Given

________________________________________________________

We may not pay Satan reverence, for that would be indiscreet,  but we can at least respect his talents. -Mark Twain
_________________________________________________________
  MID-THIRTIES I found myself alone at a lonely interstate rest area in Florida in the middle of the night, having driven from  New Orleans for the last several days, I went from rest area to rest area withdrawing from Methadone, starving but couldn't eat.  Dying of thirst, but couldn't drink.  Throwing up, diarrhea, high temperature and worst of all, I couldn't sleep.  Beg for sleep for three or four hours and sleep for ten minutes and start all over again.  I was at probably the lowest point of my life.  And I still had an appointment with the devil.    And he's going to be here in a minute.....          THE DEVIL IS REAL.  I met him.  Twice.  I know you're not going to believe this but I don't care.  I ain't got a reason to lie to y…

Circle Jerk City by Mark Anthony Given

 My father carries around the picture of the kid who came with his wallet. -Rodney Dangerfield
_______________

I BUSTED OUT OF every juvenile home they placed me in when I was a kid.  Industry, The New York State School for Boys, fifteen miles south of Rochester, New York where my parents were, was the largest juvenile reformatory in the Empire State. I thought of this escape hundreds of times throughout the years as the seminal moment I became bad. Not real bad mind you, but bad none the less. Still thinking I was Matt Helm or James Bond, I plotted my daring escape from the moment they brought me there from a local juvenile detention facility which I also broke out of. To be honest with you I thought it was my duty to escape. I don’t know really why like I said I was a bad kid. Rolling thru the beautiful upstate New York countryside in the back of state car in the early morning hours to the famous “Industry,” the place you didn’t want to be, I considered for a few minutes the possibilit…

ONE RAT AT A TIME by Mark Anthony Given

_____________________
 Information is the currency of democracy. — Thomas Jefferson
_____________________ 
              THE FEDERAL REPORTER’S come out every few weeks in paperback. The latest United States Court of Appeals decisions, and the Federal Supplement’s containing every case worthy of publication from the lower or United States District Court’s. This is where the Rubber Meets the Road when determining WHO’S A RAT or who isn’t. If you are named in a Case as a Confidential Informant or Cooperating Witness; it’s written in stone. When I was the Head of the Inmate Law Library at the Federal Correctional Facility at Seagoville, Texas, just minutes from Dallas-Ft. Worth, in the early 1990’s, we had a file called “The Cut Case’s.” Guy’s would literally run from the Bus that brought them there, many Self-Surrender, to the Inmate Law Library and surgically cut their Cases right out of the Law Books. Or make the book disappear.              NEARLY ALL the cases brought to me involved Ra…