I was watching the First 48 one day and there was an episode in Detroit where this 50 something year old man was found dead in his Escalade at a car wash. They showed him stuffed in the back seat, his gators sticking out the ride.
Shit had me trippin because my one homie took me down to the same car wash to pick up on some purp about two years before I saw the episode. There was this dope fiend who would always be around the car wash. We would buy him a 40 of some shitty malt liqour... king cobra I think he drank, maybe camo or hurricane. Anyway, the dude was cousins with these other guys who owned the car wash and about 8 different trap houses on the block behind it. These cats were all related, never less than a dozen of them posted up with product. They typically didn't let white boys on their street without flashing guns and running them off/robbing them, whatever. But this crackhead would take us there and they'd be cool with selling us viles of purp, cuz the guy was their cousin and if we bought him a 40 or two, he wouldn't be bumming cash off them to keep him drunk in between his crack binges. Plus, we wouldn't go down there unless we were spending at least a hundred, but usually we'd pool cash and go with three. I only made the trip twice myself, but my homie was on that shit like 10 times a month, lol.
Fucked up part is, the old dude who got smoked in his Caddy was killed over 12 pounds of some bomb the detectives were saying had a "street value" over over half a million dollars. And I'm sitting there like #1) THAT'S THAT DAMN CAR WASH WE USED TO RIDE DOWN TO FOR THE PURPLE SHIT! and #2) TWELVE POUNDS AINT WORTH NO HALF MIL IN THE STREETS!. Even when they wanted their bullshit $800 for an OZ. Fuck that.
So thats my crazy story regarding that show.