30
“Do you have any of the product?” John asked a new inmate, Mark Ross, who had been transferred to Homestead Correctional from another facility. Ross had a long rap sheet and had been in and out of prison since the age of eighteen.
“What are you looking for?” asked Mark.
“Do you have Percocet?”
“I do, but it’s going to cost you. We’ve had some issues with our supply chain.”
“Give me seven pills, boss.”
“That’s going to be three hundred cash, fifteen soups, and all the candy you have.”
“The price has gone up a lot. That’s ridiculous.”
“It is what it is, kid. Take it or leave it.”
“Done deal. Come by my cell in twenty minutes, and I’ll give you the cash. Give me the pills now. You know I’m good for it.”
“Sorry man, but it doesn’t work that way. No cash. No pills. I’ll stop by you
