So there we were, just outside of Columbus, GA., waiting for three ounces in the most rackedy of shacks. I was reluctant to even enter, but the idea of being the only person left in the car didn't appeal to me either. So I joined them. Facing me is a skinny white kid with a shaved head and wifebeater, talking about getting kicked out of school for fighting with 'niggers.' One black guy is in the room, sitting beside his blonde (but handicapped looking) barefoot white girlfriend (who is half his age.) The mother of the bunch is sitting on the floor, playing jeopardy on an age-old Sega Genesis... The subject of sandwiches comes up, and she argues in favor of Maijonaise Sandwiches. Her face looks like a leather urinal, long, worn... stained.
The walls are adorned with all sorts of shite, from old barbies in boxes to 'indian' posters, tumbtacked photos and other personal relics, some of which have been put in an inverted plastic coke-bottle rack.

I'm from Alabama, and I haven't seen anything this redneck, ever.

Finally, the guy arrives with the stuff, he is paid and we are free to leave. I understand why these people need drugs - I don't think I could live a week in these types of conditions, I would need to dumb myself down in order to even exist.