The Gentleman Drug Dealer

Drug Dealer Amsterdam

I was once approached by a drug dealer who tried to offer me drugs (as his job title would imply). Being a little unnerved by this I decided the best approach was to ignore the man, fearing that any response on my part would trigger a conversation which he would use to reel me in. This did not go down to well with the drug dealer who asked again, this time slightly more annoyed, “I asked you; would you like any drugs?”

Again, I took the silent approach, hoping to avoid the whole situation but this only made the drug dealer more annoyed. “All you have to do is say ‘no thank you’ if you don’t want anything,” he grumbled.

I suddenly felt a little ashamed of my actions and sheepishly responded with, “No thank you.”

“See. Good manners don’t cost anything,” he said and walked off leaving me a little confused about what had just happened. Being lectured about manners by a drug dealer is not the kind of thing you usually expect to happen during a normal day but somehow this drug dealer had just gained the moral high ground over me.

I quickly decided that he must have been a gentleman drug dealer, a man of high standards and moral character. I imagined him returning home at the end of the day and retiring to the study with a glass of 1842 chardonnay, wearing a smoking jacket and sitting by the fire in his favorite antique leather arm chair, surrounded by high shelves containing his many volumes of valuable books (some of them rare first editions). He sits there and he thinks in silence for a time.

A short while later his wife enters the room to give him the evening news paper. She crosses the large room with grace.

“What is wrong Jerald?” She asks him, noticing the frown upon his face as she gives the paper to him. Her voice is soft and loving with a hint of an Irish accent.

“Ah, Barbra,” he replies, his words heavy with the weight of his troubles as he places the newspaper neatly upon his lap. “Sometimes I despair at the apparent moral decay of our society. Sometimes I wonder; when did politeness become such a rear commodity. Are we now living in an age where indifference and apathy are common place?”

“What is it my dear? Did another customer ignore you today?” She asks in her calming but concerned tone of voice, taking the seat next to him and lightly resting her hands on his arm.

He breaks his gaze away from the fire to look upon the face of his beautiful wife. “Indeed they did my dear. I know I should not let it vex me so. After all, I do not mind if they do not desire my services but to be ignored… well… that is simply rude and uncalled for.”

“It is terrible indeed. Good manners cost nothing as your father always used to say but sadly not everyone has be raised to understand this the way you and I have. You should try to rise above it and not let it trouble your mind.” She caresses his cheek to sooth his thoughts.

“You are wise in deed my dear. I will try to do so.” He smiles to her.

“Good” She also smiles.

“I wonder, is little Timmy in bed?” he asks, changing the subject after a short pause.

“Indeed he is.” She replies.

“And did he finish his algebra homework.” He asks.

“Indeed he did. He also cleaned his room, helped the maid with the laundry and recited me a poem, all before tucking himself into bed.” She says with a smile, proud of their young son.

“He is a good boy isn’t he? We have raised him well haven’t we?” He asks, his mind already wondering back to the previous conversation.

“Indeed he is and we have raised him well. I have no doubt in my mind that he will grow up to be a hard working, honest, god fearing drug dealer just like his father.” She responds with conviction.

He smiles proudly. “Indeed.”

(For more stories about bizarre encounters with drug dealers check out: The Relationship Advice Drug Dealer)

21 responses to “The Gentleman Drug Dealer”

  1. Angela says:

    Awesome :)

    And I love the cartoon, hilarious :)

  2. Aledys Ver says:

    Excellent story! Indeed, how remarkable that this guy should confront you about your manners when he was offering you drugs…!
    Very good post.
    Cheers!

  3. Donna says:

    All of your posts have left me in tears from laughing so hard! Thanks – I sure needed the laughs. oh – and…I thought learning Portuguese was tricky – thanks dog I’ve never done anyone on the table!

  4. Invader Stu says:

    Angela – Thank you. And thank you for making me remember the story :)

    Aledys Ver – It still baffles me that he did so too.

    Donna – Thanks. It’s always great to hear people enjoy what I write :)

  5. Sharon says:

    I have to ask – did you feel a little guilty and go back saying ‘Oh, go on then, if you insist, *wags finger* but only half a gram!’

  6. Invader Stu says:

    If he had made me feel any more guilty by telling something like it was for charity I might well have had to :p

  7. VallyP says:

    Nice one Stu! I suppose the fact that the guy sells drugs doesn’t mean he has to be an ill mannered cheapskate doe it? I did laugh at your story though. It reminds me, have you come across ‘Talk to the Hand’ by Lynne Truss? It’s a great rant about how rude people are these days. I don’t know if you know her books, but she wrote a best seller about punctuation, which says something about how good she has to be! I’ve just ordered Talk to the Hand. I have a feeling your drug dealer might enjoy it too ;-)

  8. Invader_Stu says:

    Sounds like a book I should read so I know how to be polite to the next drug dealer :p

  9. thamarai says:

    Hey, I stumbled to your blog through someone else’s. Awesome! I just love the cartoons..:)..Thank God, the drug dealer din’t guilt you into buying drugs..:)

  10. Anita says:

    Best post ever about experiencing a Dutch life.

  11. Invader Stu says:

    thamarai – He would have had to try a lot harder :)

    Anita – Thanks

  12. Wezz6400 says:

    It’s amazing to see how you can turn a nice but short anecdote like that (as you posted it as a comment on Amsterdamned) into such a wonderfully enteraining blogposts of great length. This is why I like your blog, and why I’m glad you’re back. :-)

    Mr. Stu, can I have my money now? ;-)

  13. Invader Stu says:

    Thanks. You’re check is in the post ;)

  14. VallyP says:

    LOL nearly fooled him didn’t you? Cheques? in Holland??

  15. kiki says:

    YAY! He should be friends with the Self-Help Motivational Pimp!

  16. Invader Stu says:

    VallyP – Shhhh :p

    Kiki – He might well be when I finally get around to making the Self-Help Motivational Pimp

  17. The Envoy says:

    Did the drug dealer wear a monocle and a top hat? The only experience I had with drug dealers is one classmate trying to sell me weed when i was in college.

  18. Invader Stu says:

    In my mind he does now and always will ;)

  19. john says:

    a friend and i were walking along haarlemmerdijk last night- around 8pm or so….

    suddenly someone walks up along side us- keeping our pace- and says: can i bum a cigarette? no. we don’t smoke.

    then: oh… do you want o buy this bike from me for 20 euros?

    love the junkies.

  20. Invader Stu says:

    I love the way they always try to open with something small and then move onto what they really want to ask. I’ve lost track of the amount of times I’ve been asked for the time and then money.

  21. Misty says:

    I just found your blog on BlogExpat and you are hysterical! I couldn’t stop laughing at this post. Looks like life in Amsterdam is quite entertaining! I was there was to run a marathon and I had some pretty funny experiences too. Enjoy and keep blogging!

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