THE CREDIT CRUNCH AND CRACK COCAINE

Sammad's got a problem. The recent downturn in the economy means that
he can't drive his car; he's racking up a ton of debt, and soon, he
might lose his livelihood.

"Pretty soon I'll have to get a regular job," he says with a
chuckle.

Sammad's not the typical victim of financial turmoil; he's not a
factory worker or a car dealer; he's a different kind of dealer.

Sammad sells cocaine from his apartment in the suburbs of Vancouver.
What used to be a lucrative profession is going south for him and the
economy is primarily to blame.

It might be surprising, but the saleability of Sammad's product really
does depend on how well the economy is doing, and in particular, how
well males between the ages of 18-40 are doing in that economy. A lot
of uneducated male workers are losing their jobs, and for Sammad, they
are his prime clienteles. Compound this with police in the United
States intercepting a major shipment from South America destined for
BC, and you get a product with a skyrocketing price and a market that
can't afford it.

"A kilo of coke used to be 18 G's, now it's 42," he complains. "I
can't even make a profit unless I sell these chinsy little bags. My
half-grams used to cost $25; now they're $40 and even then I only
make, like, five bucks off each one."

Those "chinsy little bags" are where the most profit in selling any
drug lies. When customers start buying larger quantities, they expect
price breaks at regular intervals. Sammad used to sell a lot of
cocaine in quantities called "Eight Balls," which are one eighth of an
ounce, or 3.5 grams. Sammad just breaks even when he sells Eight
Balls, so he won't even bother with them anymore.

While Sammad's methods of making his bottom line may seem like a
rip-off for his loyal customers, he says it's better than the
alternative that some dealers have taken. He acknowledges that some
dealers are undercutting him by selling $25 half-grams, but the way
they do it is by cutting it with crystal meth.

"I sell to my friends. I don't want anyone getting hooked on speed,"
he says. "If you do lines of my shit, you'll party for a while then go
to bed that night. You do their shit, you'll be up for days. That
ain't blow, buddy."

Sammad's an optimist though. He says that while in Canada dealers have
it rough, it's nothing compared to dealers in the States, whose
clients are losing their jobs daily. This, according to him, could
play out favourably for Canadians. As fewer and fewer American dealers
are able to sell their product, the more likely they are to simply cut
their losses and ship it up to Canada-at a greatly reduced price. He
figures if he sticks it out long enough, he might be able to cash in
on the big product dump that could take place in the future.

Then again, that could take a while and his landlord sure as hell
won't let him hold off on rent until the price of coke drops. Sammad's
thinking about retiring from the game, and leaving it to those with
more dedication. In the meantime, it looks like Sammad will be going
through the want ads.

"Hey, at least I'll be able to drive my car again," he says.