Bumps.com

Colorado legalized marijuana and the weed industry has blossomed in the Rockies much to the chagrin of other square states such as Nebraska and Kansas, whose police have had to deal with an influx of reefer flooding into the Bible Belt. The DEA and State anti-drug forces are acting like Japanese soldiers in World War II who refused to believe that the USA had defeat the Land of the Rising Sun, but we potheads beat the pigs, despite the Law sending millions of 4:20 adherents to jail and prison.

This weekend the NYPD refused to police the City after a madman murdered two cops having lunch in Queens. The Boys in Blue blamed the new mayor for inciting the Baltimore killer with his accusation of police brutality and the rank and file obeyed their strike-breaking union leader by turning their backs on DeBlasio during the funeral of one of the fallen officers.

The NYPD also decided to stage a work slowdown and arrests dropped by 62%.

There was no crime wave.

Just freedom from police oppression and on New Year's Eve I tried to open a cocaine dispensary in Times Square.

Very little capital lay-out.

A sign stating 'Cocaine $25'.

I had no blow on me, but the PD spotted my sign and confronted me with accusations of drug dealing.

They searched me from head to toe.

"I don't have nothing on me, but I heard you weren't arresting anyone, so I thought I'd test the waters for the future of selling cocaine via bumps.com."

"Take a walk." A white-shirted captain wasn't amused by my antics.

"I was going to give you a cut."

"Better than you get from the rich." I hated the cops for ripping off the people for parking tickets, traffic summons, sidewalk stops as nauseum for a city surviving on pirate revenue rather than taxing the rich. "Plus Tony Montana won the War of Drugs. Not the DEA. You losers."

I shouted this from a safe distance. I had no intentions of spending New Year's Eve in jail.

Not even for Tony Montana.

Free Ralph

Last Thursday night I walked down Lafayette to repay a debt to the local bodega owner. Crossing South Portland I spotted several undercover NYPD cops gathered before Lafayette Ave. Meat Corp. Just the other day the bearded Palestinian had lent me $80, so I could send money to my son Fenway. All I had to say, "Can you give me 8-0." "You got it." Ralph chucked down $80 from his office without question. There was no 'no' from Ralph Jawad, unless he can't say 'yes'. I approached the cops and asked, "Did Ralph get robbed? Is he okay?" "Ralph's fine, except we arrested him for selling drugs." An older cop informed me with pride. "And it wasn't a little amount either." "Pot?" I had heard the rumors, but my only trafficking with Ralph was beer, Perrier, and conversations about sports. "Can't say, but it was a lot." He was acting like he had busted Pablo Escobar. "What? A couple of bags of weed." I shook my head. "Sorry ass law." "You want to go to jail too?" The haughty officer straightened up to show his authority and I slunk away muttering about the 'pigs'. Calling them that isn't against the law, at least it wasn't in the days of the Black Panthers. Over the next two days I discussed the matter with several residents of the neighborhood. My landlord's wife said that she remembered the days when that corner was one of the hottest in Brooklyn. "Dealers hung out there all night playing loud music and dealing drugs from their cars. Two men were killed on that corner. It was bad. I knew that Ralph was dealing a little pot, but nothing else. I one time asked him about it and he said, "I don't know nothing." "Me neither." I was a little upset that I hadn't noticed the trade in weed, since I used to have a good sense of radar for such activity. Jay, the young attendant at the laundry, suspected that someone had snitched out Ralph. "I seen a couple of strange guys in there. Like one Latin brother who didn't fit in. He looked like Rickie Ricardo. Always watching everything. Ralph shoulda been more careful. But fuck that, Ralph ain't done nothing wrong and he was always there for you if you needed something. He was the Mayor of the Block. Fuck the PD. Fuck Bloomberg. In two years there'll be design weed store on Fulton." "Probably someone got busted and snitched him out." "Coulda snitched out someone bad, but not Ralph." "Free the weed." We slapped palms and departed with a nod of righteousness. The next day the hat salesman on the corner told me that the raid had netted some reefer and a gun. "Every bodega got to have a gun. Not like you can call 911 when someone is looking to stick you up." Nobody was happy about the bust and a retired pot dealer said, "None of this made the papers, which was strange if it was such a big deal. They got him on drugs and a gun charge. It's almost as if they were arresting him so they can steal his property. Remember Ralph's Palestinian and that's not an easy thing in this city." "I know." Ralph had recently returned from a vacation to see his family in Palestine. "Damn, po-lice." An elderly lady pushed a cart up the street. "Ralph always gave me a special deal on food. Ain't none of them supermarket gonna treat you like that?" Everyone agreed with her. Yesterday I saw Ralph's brother and gave him my $80. "Tell your brother thanks. He's a good man." "He'll be out Monday maybe." "That's good news." I walked back home, feeling a little better, but not 100%, because a friend was behind bars. Free the Ralph.