There’s two kinds of people that go on vacations: those that go to take pictures of things (tourist shit) and those that go party through the break of dawn. We did both and it would have been difficult if we didn’t get some Bolivian Marching Powder. In Cusco, Peru we knew we could score some blow, it was just a matter of “how” since we didn’t know anyone in the city. With experience buying blow in the USA and other countries in Latin America, we knew this wouldn’t be too difficult since we do blow and figured the FMV of a gram in Cusco to be about $10-15
Prior to going to Cusco, we stayed in Arequipa to acclimate to the altitude. Some cool Guatemalan guy we met at the party hostel we were staying at offered us some blow, but it didn’t compared to the stuff from Cusco and Lima. He gave us a little baby line and that shit burned like a mother fucker. For Peruvian blow, it was cut more than west-side Chicago blow. The mother fucking blow burned like a bitch and we didn’t even get a slight buzz from it. We’re hoping this wouldn’t be the case in all of Peru.
Next day, we decided to turn shit up in the hostel and started day drinking. Gathered a crew and beer ponged it hard (Europeans looked at us like we were fucking crazy). Ended up talking about blow with some Swedish guy and he says:
“Let’s go Charlie Sheen it in my dorm.”
We’ve probably drank for about 3-4 hours prior to doing yola with this Swedish guy so we were pretty fucking tired and drunk. Go to to his room and he says, we are doing some bazooka lines, none of that baby shit. Took the first line and my god, that shit was some of the best blow we’ve had in all of Peru. Wanted to go back and fuck shit up and let everyone know how fucking American we are and fuck every bitch. Asked the Swede if he got it from Lima. He’s like fuck no, got this shit in Cusco. Perfect, that’s was our next destination. We do a couple more lines and prepare to head out. This crazy Swedish guy then licks his cigarette and puts some blow on the wet part.
Magic Stick. Buddy was smoking LOUD outside the hostel like it was normal. We didn’t try it but the smoke smelled like straight up ass. After this excellent encounter we looked forward to the Cusco blow.
Fast forward to Cusco, we’re chillen in the Plaza after eating some Peruvian grilled chicken, just minding our own business. Wandered around for a bit and a random art selling teenager approach us if we wanted to buy his shitty oil paintings. We said no. (we know Spanish by the way)
He responds: “Do you need anything else?” The look on this guy’s face said it all. He knows where the blow is at and we look like yola boys so its game on.
I respond “tienes pase” (Do you have blow)
He’s like what the fuck is that? (it’s Mexican/Colombia slang for cocaine)
Respond with “Coca.”
He nods. He says he doesn’t sell it but knows a guy. All he asks in return is for a commission if a deal goes down. Essentially, these kids have 2 forms of income. They sell art on the Plaza and if you look American enough to do blow, they bring it up and help you buy it. A random observation from our Peru adventures, only Americans and Australians are hyped about blow when visiting Peru. Every Peruvian always looked puzzled when it came it blow “Why are Americans and Austrialians so hyped about this. You guys only come for Cocaine and Machu Picchu” Exactly, that’s exactly why we come to your Country and the putas. When you pay $50-90 a gram for some cut shit, $10 is a fucking blessing for some Peruvian gold.
The kid then says the dealer is at a local bar a couple blocks from the Plaza and we’ll be able to make a deal in peace inside. We get to the bar and this place is a Grade-A shit hole. There’s a 1990s cube TV with soccer on, the tables are wooden and broken. This a fucked up local sippin on a Pilsen. The floor is dirty as fuck and they only take cash. The kid’s brother walks into the bar, wearing soccer clothes, and I’m thinking this is the guy that’s going to sell us blow. Nope. He’s just there to watch and hope for a commission. We chat for a bit, and I decide to buy the first round of beer. We get the beer, and they’re fucking piss warm. Fuck that, I didn’t drink any but the Peruvian art selling teen and his brother happily drank that shit.
The dealer walks in and I was expecting someone that looks like the average local. Hell fucking no. This guy is 5’2″ with tattoos everywhere, like some MS-13 from El Salvador. For some reason I couldn’t take this guy serious, he was the shortest guy I’ve seen in all of Cusco, and this country is full of manlets. He doesn’t say a single word and puts 2 things on the table: A piece of paper with about 10 grams of clumpy powder blow and about 5 grams in “rock” form. We try the some of the 10g, and this was the real deal. We finally found the lost city of Gold. This stuff look pretty pure, crystals everywhere and shit. Went down smooth, nice buzz, gums numb.
Art boy told us this is the more expensive of the two things offered. We then tried the cheaper shit, the rock. The complete opposite of Peruvian gold we just tried. My buddy took a fat bump and said it was nothing. At this point, Art boy laughs his ass off. I’m like fuck, buddy just got roofied. Nope. It’s fucking drywall he says. I’m thinking, why would these people put drywall next to blow. It turns out that most gringos that come buy blow from these guys never test the blow and more likely than not always walk out with the cheap shit. It’s obvious to us and the locals that gringos are not cocaine connoisseurs.
10 Grams of Bolivian marching powder, and we only want an 8-ball. I tell the dealer $20 US (~60 Peruvian Soles) for 3 grams. He says nope. You gotta buy the whole thing, 10 fucking grams of yola. I fucking knew it. That’s something we have noticed in Latin America, they sell by the volume. This isn’t the US where you can go to your local dealer and buy a gram or half a gram and be cool. These people are poor and are in it for the money and to make money you gotta sell by the weight since the stuff is cheap as fuck. He asks for 6000 soles ($2,000 US) for 10 GRAMS! HOLY FUCK.
This guy is out of his fucking mind. However, there’s two reasons why he asked for $6k: 1)Dumbass tourists pay that price 2)It’s Peru, you gotta fucking haggle. Everywhere you go in Peru, you gotta fucking haggle unless its a restaurant or store (ie not a mercado). Before you jump in a taxi, you gotta fucking haggle. it’s everywhere like the Zica virus. As you can imagine, we go back and forth with this short MS-13 dealer, not getting anywhere. We give our final and last offer of $100 US for the 10g. Dealer boy is not happy and not wanting it. He asks for $150. Cheap to be honest but our egos are not letting us take this price in mother fucking Cusco, Peru. So we walk out of the shitty bar, money in our pockets. We knew damn well we could find another dealer but didn’t want to go through the whole process again. We hear the words we were expecting:
“Come back, lets talk about this.”
He goes on a tirade about how his people are poor and they’re hungry and this is what they must do to make a living. That we should be generous with our “Dollars” since we don’t have to go through the shit they do blah blah. That this is the best blow will find in all of Cusco (We think he was right, because we tried other shit from people in the hostel and they couldn’t match the purity of the stuff we got). We figured this is the speech that makes the regular gringos pay the high price. After his heartwarming speech he asks for:
“$100 and your watch”
This is where I make a haggling mistake. You see the watch I had on was a Japanese watch made by Invicta. The watch is worth $80-100 dollars and I told the dealer the watch is worth $100. I tell him its $100 cash or the watch. What I should’ve told him was that the watch was worth $250-300 dollars and Iwould’ve walked away with the 10g easier with cash in hand. The dealer is firm about the watch and $100 US, so we walkout again. Money and watch in hand.
He asks us to come back again, this time he looks really pissed.
“Give me the $100” and he gives us the 10g. We did it. We beat a fucking Peruvian local at their game of haggle. We bought the Peruvian gold at a local price. Buddy was pissed off but we didn’t give a fuck, we had enough blow to kill a baby Rhino. Haggling is a third world ritual we fucking hate doing but it’s a required skill in the Uhriginal world of Hookers and Blow. We learned more about sales and closing deals than some marketing major ever will in a 4 year university. There’s a lesson in there boys.
We gave the art-boy $10 for commission. A job well done by him.