Ginger Strikes Again
Inevitable.
Ginger Strikes Again
There just had to be a way out of this. There had to be; if I could get into it, there had to be a way out. A way, anyway, that didn’t involve losing my life, or going to jail for about a hundred years. I just don’t understand it, either. Somehow or other, it’s always about my sexuality, and I can’t help that. It gets me a job, then it gets me in trouble. Sometimes it even gets me laid. If I wanted it, that would be much more often, but I’ve become selective. Congratulate me.
But once I understood what I was involved with, I wanted out. That was paramount.
It all seemed innocent enough, deliver a package, get paid. How was I to know what was in it? The giveaway should have been the amount I was being paid. But, considering that it was cocaine, I was actually underpaid. That was the scheme, take an innocent and set her up. I never opened the package, I just delivered it. If I’d been caught, no one would have known me.
But, the deliveries soon bloomed, and they had me moving smaller packages to a great number of delivery points. And then, they wanted me to collect money. A lot of money, and I finally questioned what it was I was delivering.
Luckily for me, I wasn’t all that surprised and just said “cool” when they told me. That probably saved my life, because if I had let on how I really felt, they’d have certainly killed me.
It just so happened, the next round of large deliveries was on the very next day. I was going to be carrying a lot of money, and would get done before dark. So I did it, most of it, and then, I turned them all in. Buyers, sellers, the lot of them. Then, I skipped. They expected to pick me up after the last delivery, but instead of turning left to make that delivery, I turned right, went to the police, handed them my customer lists and then went home.
No one will be following me. They only knew my first name, and they paid me cash. The cops didn’t get my real name or address, either. I can move across country as easily as staying put. There’s nothing at all keeping me here.
I thought, $480,000 will keep me for awhile. Waitressing wasn’t so bad, I’ll get a job, start working on a degree and make it last.
The last package?
I threw it in the river. I didn’t want to give the cops a reason to hold me.
I don’t do drugs.
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