Doing a lot of Cocaine in Miami and Causing Problems for Society
Buying drugs, Picking up an Asian Foid, Having sex on the beach, Getting robbed, Dine & dashing, Harassing strippers, Getting kicked out of Da Club... Classic Miami
Buying Drugs
People often ask me “have you done coke?” “did you like it?” and I usually say: yeah I’ve done it, it’s alright, but you have to re-up every 20 minutes so it always makes me feel like a retarded drug addict.
But last night cocaine did the opposite of that. It made me feel confident. Alive.
I hate to be glorifying shit like this, and I know I always say this with drugs—but I’m just telling you what happened, and what happened is that my friends and I were walking through the streets of Miami on a Thursday night bickering about Hinge and Hypergamy and Sexual Market Value and all this terrible bullshit nonsense when I said FUCK IT! and mercilessly chugged the Gatorade With 3 shots of Vodka Poured In which then caused me to become very sociable and free, telling every random person on the street exactly what I wanted & how I felt, and within 20 minutes I found us a nice clean bag of Coke.
The guy’s name was Lui. Lui was the second dark-skinned black guy on the streets of Miami we approached that night looking for drugs. He was the third to interact with our group– my pal David got scammed the night before by a local character named “8 Ball Willy” who apparently sold him a bag of flour for $200 and disappeared.
At first we were on a quest to find this 8 Ball Willy Guy and give him a stern talking-to but then we happened upon these other beautiful characters Lui and Diesel.
Diesel sold me a baggie of weed for $7, I don’t even smoke any more I just felt cool making the trade. My friends told him about my blog and how awesome it is. Diesel said You a Real Nigga Man, David said so he’s got a pass? Diesel said Hell no! I said aaaaaaaah whatever.
Then we found Lui. He looked like a drug dealer so I sat down next to him and cut through the bullshit and said We Are Looking for Cocaine.
As we spoke I recorded this conversation as a Voice Note for one of my Hinge matches because all my chats were feeling gay retarded and boring lately and I know that girls on Hinge are just looking for entertainment and fun—
So suddenly I’m having a lot more luck on Hinge just recording these really mean Voice Notes and Lui seems to be legit, he’s about 5’1 with a kind face and he leads us into a hotel lobby for an ATM and then down a dark alleyway with David, they come out with the stuff, Dave’s confident it’s good this time and so now we’ve got some Coke.
So we enter some random club head into a bathroom and I snort the coke off my Key, the Key to my van which is on a lanyard which sometimes hangs around my neck when I don’t trust my brain to keep track of it… ah I keep digressing. I’m a terrible fucking writer. Anyways I snort the coke off the key and so does David but Carl holds out, for now—he’s got a girlfriend and he knows that if he takes coke he’s going to cheat on her because that’s how his brain works for some reason, I respect his loyalty and also his call when he says “There are too many black people at this club” – yeah no shit man, it’s Miami, so we go somewhere else.
Okay here’s what Cocaine does: it makes me feel like I have something good to share with people—not just the blow, like something good in my heart. Makes me feel like I am Fun, I am a good time, your night will be enhanced by my presence, which is more than I can say about myself any other time on this awful planet, lately I’ve felt so lousy and alone, and
Picking up an Asian Foid
Okay so you probably want to hear about the “sex on the beach.” It was me and this 24 year old 7/10 Chinese Foid wearing a tight red dress and Cinderella slippers. She had decent tits and a big round face and as always her English sucked so I felt just about nothing for her as a person but I needed to touch a woman, it’s been so long and I’m on Cocaine, no fear, so when my even more fearless friend Carl approached this group of girls in Da Club (we were at Mango’s Cafe in South Beach) and I saw an opening— I’ve been getting killed by approach anxiety all week here, I’m too autistic, but here this actually worked to my advantage, the autism, when I asked this beautiful little Chink–
“WHAT IS THIS GUY SAYING TO YOU?” and she responds “HE SAYS WHERE YOU FROM, I SAY NEW YORK” and I show her my earplugs, I’m the only person in this entire club wearing earplugs, on vacation in Miami, I say “TOO LOUD!” She says “YOU SO CUTE!” I say “YOU WANNA MOVE OUT SO WE CAN TALK?” she says “YES!” and I’m like fuck, is it really that easy?
Communicating verbally on a dance floor is so terrible/gay but words are all that I have, so I’m usually just vibing in tortured silence knowing that every girl in my orbit wants me to approach but 1. I have nothing good to say and 2. I hate screaming, so Nothing Ever Happens. But the cocaine it changed me.
I’ve been taking so many drugs this week. Just fucking everything: adderall cialis vodka gatorade coke vitamin B1 aspirin coffee and some other shit Carl gave me that is supposed to ease your anxiety in a different way—I am not a role model, I am not in trouble either I’m just a living science experiment.
and Today I find it impossible to stay on topic or to get to the point…
The point is that I needed to fondle a woman, and luckily this girl could see the goodness in my eyes so she followed me out from the dance floor to the bar, then out from the bar to some tables outside, I said “let’s go to the beach” and she followed me there, she said I Like Adventure and I said Damn Right and so we walked 10 minutes from the club to the beach, because it’s Miami and that’s possible, we got close to the water and we laid down beside each other and it was finally quiet.
Sex on the Beach
She asked many questions about me and I asked very little of her, because the answers you get from someone who speaks Chinese-English are never worth hearing. No hate though. She was hot and I liked her. I liked her for her body and she liked me because I was confident and had the balls to take her outside.
Like an idiot I told her I did blow, which made her very nervous and stopped her from kissing me on the lips, the Chinese are very afraid of drugs, afraid of “illegals,” she said I never been with Illegal before, I had so much to say about breaking the rules and having fun and being free but it was too much for her Chinese mind, so we talked about simpler things and I kissed her ear and oh my god when she put her tongue on mine I just about nutted right there, we rolled around on the sand like they do in movies and I showed her my blog because it’s all I have left and she started laughing and at one point she slapped me in the face…and her name was Jae. J A E. Or at least that’s what she told me.
Jae asked how many girls you been with? I said hundreds. Half-joking. She was very interested in my sexual history. She said you use condoms? I just shrugged. There are a lot of reasons to be afraid of me but she kept looking into my eyes and seeing Good and she said you a good writer? I said I’m the best. And she could tell I believed it, so she did too.
Jae had definitely never done anything like this before and honestly neither had I. I was doing the knee thing to her and teasing her legs/thighs with my fingers, she said “do not touch my ass” every time I did, gave it a nice squeeze, at one point she pushed my back onto the sand and straddled me and began to grind rhythmically, I went what the fuck and started to get hard, I was staring up in disbelief, I can tell this girl is not a rule-breaker, generally, but here she is bringing my homeless trampy white boy skeleton ass to the point of no return, I said “we need to go back to your hotel room.” hotel room. Hotel room.
I urged her verbally but not physically. It wasn’t until much later that I realized, or rather my friends convinced me, that she might have wanted to fuck right there on the sand. But I know that sand gets all over the place, and someone could walk up to us, so despite my raging hard on I didn’t go for a playful beach rape.
Honestly I was more interested in her bed than the sex, it was 4 AM and I had a long day, and I live in a van so any bed is an upgrade for me.
Getting Robbed
We’re both really cold now holding each other for warmth when the fucking cops show up shining their high beams at us in the sand,
she says Oh no, I make a big mistake, I break the law, I say it’s okay, I’ll talk to anyone, and I mean it, thankfully we don’t have to talk to the cops but NOT SO THANKFULLY some fucking niggers robbed her purse.
I have no idea how… we set our stuff down and laid right next to it and though we rolled around a bit we couldn’t have moved more than 10 feet, we would’ve heard them, I really don’t know how but when we found her purse it was ransacked, she said Oh no Oh no… Okay they just took $25 dollar and a credit card. I freeze credit card. I say I’m sorry, it’s okay. They won’t take anything you just freeze the card and you’re good. She says thank god they leave passport and hotel key… thank you.. Thank you so much..
She was a resilient little foid, I’ll give her that, it didn’t kill her, so I stood with her holding her calming her down and she said oh I freeze my card so I have no money to call uber… I said alright I’ll call one. Wait or we can… take my van?
I gave her a look that said Fun and she understood so we started walking to my van, which was parked a few blocks away. But then as we’re walking I reach into my fucking pocket and THE KEY IS NOT THERE! THE KEY I DID COKE OFF EARLIER, THE KEY TO THE VAN THAT I LIVE IN, IT’S NOT FUCKING THERE! NO!!!! I tell her this and she insists we go back to the beach and look for it. She really is a good little foid.
It’s almost 5 AM now. We don’t find the key, which is sad but it’s not the end of the world, I’ll just get a new key made, so then I get her an uber for real and she doesn’t really kiss me goodbye or anything (maybe it’s a cultural thing) which I found a little sad and she gives me her WhatsApp so I can hit her back so she can pay me back tomorrow. I slept at my friends’ hostel.
Day 2
Dine and Dashing
The girls in Miami are really hot. I must fuck. I’ve only been here for a few days but I haven’t fucked in months. It’s getting to be really painful pathetic and sad.
Jae, the Chinese Korean girl from last night was turning out to be what we in the Business World call a “warm lead,” responding to all my texts immediately, showing great interest, and she “owed me” for the uber I called, so the next night I invited her out for dinner.
I was late, as I am for everything, always. I sniffed another pinky-tip-full of cocaine from that bag yesterday and met her outside my friends’ hostel.
Earlier my van key was replaced for $10 by Triple A. Her credit card was successfully frozen and she said it was no problem, she had more credit cards in her hotel room. She was wearing a blue dress now. I was wearing a Chill white button up with many stains on it.
She said I am hungry, hello, you have place in mind? I said no, let’s just walk. We walked for about 48 seconds until I saw a place called Naked Taco, and I said “hey this is a place” and we went in.
The staff showed me great deference, they could tell I was trying to get some pussy. Also I was on coke so I was acting like a king. They sat us down face to face interview-style which kind of pissed me off so I asked if we could move into the corner so we could sit beside each other and just watch the action of the place together. I will do this on every single date for the rest of my life.
Jae asked me to tell her what to get. Classic foid. Okay you get this and I get this. Drinks? You like Lychee? She says OK Good. Women don’t like making choices in anything except men.
Jae is here alone on vacation, she lives in New York, I say where, she says Central Park. You know Central Park? Yes I know Central Park. Nice park. She’s not in school. She just exists and has infinite money. Many such cases. Meanwhile I photo-prostituted my naked body for $300 last week on Craigslist. And here we are tonight.
I just want to fuck. I don’t tell her this with my words but with my eyes. She says you stare at everyone like this? So intense? I say yeah sure. We’re in the corner closer together now so my knees are brushing up against hers every few minutes, I’m making her laugh, teasing her, she’s taking pictures of me and herself and the meal and everything and I wish she would stop, just be with me here now you stupid foid.
I’m cramming some subliminal messages in despite the language barrier, for example I’m wiping my face with a napkin stained with water and she says don’t use that one, I say no it’s so much better when it’s wet, wink, she laughs smiles blushes looks away, she says you love double meaning words, yes I’m a writer, she is reminded of what she learned last night, yes I write a blog about fucking girls and being homeless, Not Many Such Cases, she says you should come out to club with me tonight, or we go walk on beach, I like take things slow, I say that’s totally fine…
But in my head no it’s totally not fine, I am incredibly horny and I want to take you straight to your hotel room and bonk your Chinese brains out, she has a pretty nice body and I’ve been teasing it, we’ve had a lot of laughs because I’m a once-in-a-generation-talent, and on coke, she’s saying lets meet again on Tuesday, I’m thinking bitch I need to fuck you right now, what is this, I cannot be your boyfriend I cannot be strung along like this I do not exist to entertain you I need to put my throbbing white cock inside you in the next 40 minutes or someone is going to get seriously hurt, if she spoke english more fluently I might have started saying things like this to her at the table, but this was not the case so I just kept trying to say it with my eyes.
The date is coming to a close and I feel myself about to waste several hours with this bitch who ostensibly has nothing for me so I go off to the bathroom and call my friend Carl, who’s Chilling in the Hostel, if I’m not fucking this foid I’d rather be with him tonight ‘cause he’s a riot, he’s one of the most deranged psychos on Earth but also he’s really smart and based and jewish, he’s the reason I’m in Miami actually, so I call Carl and say I’m probably not going to smash, I gotta get out of here, he’s like alright man just let me know.
I take more Cocaine in the bathroom to hype myself up for Act 2. Check comes and it’s $93. Fuck—sorry, it’s Miami and we’re tourists.
At some earlier point this Mexican lady came by holding roses, she said Roses twenty dollar, twenty dollar for roses, taking advantage of idiot tourists like me, I am still trying to fuck at this point so I say hey how about $10? She says Si, OK, ten, I venmo Isabel $10 she gives me two roses I give her a hug and I give one to the Asian foid. She smiles laughs covers her mouth in her hands like asian girls do and obviously takes several pictures of me the roses and all. Instagram life.
Okay but I really don’t think she’s trying to fuck my homeless ass tonight so I need to get out of here. Jae goes off to the bathroom herself and the cocaine surging through my bloodstream tells me: … just leave. Just get the fuck out. Before she pays $93. And you feel obligated to keep entertaining her all night. Carl is waiting. Miami is waiting. It’s Friday. Leave. Just get up and leave.
In 12 seconds I feel myself grabbing my rose getting up and just leaving. Walking away very quickly and then I’m running, looking behind me frantically in every direction and looking at the cops but I’m White so nothing’s really going to happen to me—I’m free, lightly jogging down the street holding my rose feeling increasingly terrible for Jae. I wrote on the receipt “SORRY I AM A BAD GUY” I underlined “BAD GUY” several times. She saw the blog, she knows.
I know that looking at her face and saying “sorry let’s actually separate, if I can’t fuck you I’d rather be with my friend” is just such a heinous way to treat a person, and I think seeing her face in response to something like that would imprint an unforgettable image into my memory, so instead I just run away and no such memory is formed.
I texted her “sorry, i just wanted sex, i am a bad guy i know, i left, goodbye,” I sent that and immediately blocked her number because I did not want to know what she had to say in response. I just took my rose and ran away.
Harassing Strippers, and Getting Kicked out of Da Club
I returned to Carl and told him all this and he said wow man you really are the worst boyfriend ever. Yeah. Then we went out and had a pretty good time.
Did a lot more blow. Went to a nightclub called “E11even” where strippers and normies coexist, the strippers try to seduce the normies into paying $800 for a lap dance and I had a great time teasing them with Carl seeing how far we could get before they started to demand money. We spent $0.
As we became more drunk/cocainated he started to cause problems: he would find guys who were about to pay for teasing services and tell them things like “they won’t let you cum bro, it’s a scam, don’t do it, don’t pay for it, they ask for $2000 to let you fuck” —most brushed him off but some guys seemed to actually take his warnings into consideration, I was just shadowing him laughing my ass off,
Carl was costing the place revenue so by like 4 AM we got kicked out, it was awesome. But I did not get laid. So that was not awesome.
Sigh, I will never have sex again probably. I deserve it. The more I write this blog the harder it becomes to get pussy.
But here’s the worst part of it all:
Jae actually texted me back after I left. Like 5 minutes later.
But I had her blocked. So I couldn’t see her response to my autistic vanishing act. Because I was so sure it would be mean, and I hate reading mean comments.
My last message to her was:
👤 “sorry, i just wanted sex, i am a bad guy i know, i left, goodbye”
BUT… for some reason, Apple sucks at blocking people, so her messages actually came through to my iMessage on my computer, which I didn’t see until the next day, after driving 2 hours North.
And guess what? Guess fucking what? This is what she said:
🎀 (5 minutes later): OK let me think about it
🎀 (15 minutes later): Sure. Meet me outside hotel
Women never cease to amaze me.
I’m staring at this message the next day, in West Palm Beach, at a cafe, mouth agape, wanting to kill myself, thinking: sigh, at least it will make for a funny ending to the story.
I see another foid in Lululemon spandex, my resolve breaks, I head to the single-occupant All-Genders restroom, I lock the door, I pump some SoftSoap into my palm, I open TikTok, I cum.
Ah, that’s better. Onwards and upwards.
Reading WBE gives me this unusual feeling of muted, distant grief. Like finding out a high school teacher you liked died. There's nothing quite like it
this is why I like reading WBE. Loads of self glorification, yet the story doesn't show an exceptional Don Juan. It's relatable-ness of a fleeting romance, the sine wave of expectations and sexual energy. When he abandons the date post bill, scorning his tragic philandering flaw, I fucking laughed. Rather be with the boys. It's like wrapping yourself up in your own narrative that everything feels like high stakes, and I guess I was laughing at myself.
The girl actually texting him back and him missing it was the cherry on top.