Chapter Thirteen: Get to the Point
In February, 2004, I was just a kid, living in Cincinnati, Ohio, grinding it out. I was selling a pound here, a pound there, and working double shifts at a Marriott in town.
My apartment was a studio for $350 a month. It was maybe the size of a couple of refrigerators. I used the closets to start my first weed grow. Made shit on it, to be honest (like I said before, I’ve never been a good grower). But that's how I was living. I was hustling, really hustling, working a lot, just trying to eke by. I put in a ton of hours at the Marriott, and the best part of the job is that I had health insurance.
I was making $12 an hour, working a solid forty hours a week, usually with overtime. Waiting tables was my full-time job. I was also working as a doorman, and also bartending. I did everything at that place.
The hotel at the time had this really shitty-ass executive lounge. It was called something like the “VIP Center” or the “Restoration Area.” The title made it sound like a place you’d wake up …
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