Tally ho, good sir! Might you have any of the cocaines?
When purchasing consumer products, it is imperative to maintain certain societal standards. The same rules apply when procuring that good shit.
First, determine which manner of illicit drug you wish to imbibe by hiring a peasant boy to try every narcotic, stimulant, and psychotropic on the market.
Carefully observe each substance’s effect on the young street urchin – whichever puts him in the gayest mood, and does not kill him, is the drug for you. I have decided to go with sniffing salts, aka “cocaine.”
Have the street boy arrested for soliciting illegal drugs. Poor people should not break the law.
Next, you’ll need to find a Drugsmith, also known as a “dealer.” Do not go with any of the dealers used by your urchin boy, however, as he is a felon and therefore untrustworthy.
In order to secure a proper Drugsmith, you must first officially announce your intention to buy drugs. Do this by throwing a large gala at your home, country club or polo grounds.
To command the attention of potential drug-sellers in attendance, clink your teaspoon against a brandy snifter exactly three times, curtsey, then say the words “I am interested in purchasing illegal drugs.”
At this point, the drugsmiths will line up by height, and each will be given five minutes to pitch his wares. Each drugsmith will try his best to woo you with fleeting glances, weekend trips to the country, and whispered promises of “the good shit,” but only you can decide which peddler is right for you.
Once you’ve selected your drugsmith, it is customary to introduce him to your parents. If they approve of his upbringing, where he attended grad school, and how many horses he owns, you may proceed with your drug deal.
Before receiving the drugs, you must now convince your drugsmith that you are not a “narc.” A narc is an impish knave who seduces drugsmiths into thinking he is chill and down to smoke or do blow, but, in actuality, he is a policeman in disguise. If your drugsmith asks “Are you a cop?”, you should respond by reciting the following limerick:
“A cop is fop and I must decree / I am no more a cop than I am a tree! / for a tree’s made of wood and a cop just bacon / I am down as a clown, sir, and I ain’t fakin’!”
If that doesn’t work, just say “I am not a cop.”
Next, your drugsmith will ask you what denomination of drugs you would like to purchase. Illegal drugs are typically doled out in the following denominations: one lump, two lumps, a bushel, a peck, or a carriage-load.
Once you have purchased your desired amount of sniffing salts, smoking soils or shooting savories, you may bid farewell to your drugsmith with a gentle kiss on the forehead.
Now, immediately throw your newly-purchased bag of drugs into the nearest trashcan. Illegal drug-buying is done merely for sport In high society, and it is seen as uncouth to ingest one’s own score. If one still wishes to get fucked up, he simply eats a bunch of prescription pills, like a gentleman.