"You can't go to the bathrooms in [South Beach] clubs without somebody saying, 'Juice, you want a hit?' You always get people handing you something. It might be a line of coke with a phone number [in case] you want more,"
“[One] night, it was just pervasive. [So] you take it, put it in your pocket, drive home. Next day, I wake up and look over next to my bed. I had two things I assume were ecstasy pills, a couple of things I assume were cocaine, and one little package of pot. All of them had phone numbers on them. All I could think was, If I got stopped by the cops drivin’ home and told them I didn’t know that was in my pocket, who’s gonna believe that? Only way to avoid it is I don’t go to South Beach anymore!”
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