Pliers, crescent wrenches, pairs of wire cutters and vice grips, tape measures, a couple hammers, a few objects which resemble pointed chisels, and every other tool imaginable flies in a flurry from his bulging pockets. In my mind I hear circus music chime to this scene. He flings up his right arm. He flings up his left. The tools keep coming non-stop.

Minutes go by before Spin Doctor finally empties his jacket. He leads us into his house. Except for an open toolbox and a few stray engine parts, his place looks a little tidier than Lee's. He makes a show of drawing all the curtains tightly closed.

"Be right back," he says, disappearing down a darkened hallway. In two seconds he returns, now carrying a small shoe box.

Lee, who'd seated himself on an ottoman, scrambles to his feet. Eyes wide, he says, "Wow, bro! You brought out the whole works!"

"Well, you brought a couple friends," Spin Doctor says. "I'll get all three of you spun."

Joel and I share a look. I might have had my first ever beer this weekend, but there's no way I'll try drugs.

Lee says, "Oh, no, bro! They're just here to watch."

"What?" he cries, narrowing his eyes on Joel and I. "No tweak and freak? . . ." We're shaking our heads. "No spin and grin? . . .Not even a little?"

"I know what you're doing!" Joel blurts suddenly, jumping to his feet. "Don't fall for it Mylan. It's a trick. . .Yeah, I know all about you guys. . .I saw it on TV. . .First you just want to give us a little. Then we're hooked, and the next time we come back for more—WHAM! You charge us."

Joel’s on a mission now, frantically pointing an accusing finger. "Pretty soon we’re broke. And then…and then we need to steal money to pay for the drugs¾ we need to rob people! His eyes brighten. "Just like those black guys. They probably needed our money to buy drugs. . .my watch!"

I'm completely silent. Lee's grinning—Spin Doctor looks at him and shakes his head. "You know, Lee. I might of thought your cousin was a Fed, coming in here to watch you do your dope, but that just can't be. . .You're cousin's a jackass."

Joel doesn't say another word. He sits down, defeated, and stares at the floor. His self-esteem's crushed. He'd make a lousy politician, I imagine.

Lee and Spin Doctor quickly move about their business. I'm hurriedly taking notes, interested in recording the procedure. Lee hands over the money I'd earlier given him and Spin Doctor returns a small plastic bag sealed at the top. There's tiny clumps of something white inside it. I realize now that I'm witnessing a felony drug transaction. Spin Doctor tells Lee that "it's good."

"What do you mean by that?" I ask.

With that same grin, Lee answers, "One hundred percent crystal. Killer shit—not prope dope! That's powder that's been cut. These are rocks." He's showing me the four tiny clumps of white, now placed on a small mirror taken from the shoebox. "When it's been cut it's usually with ephedrine—Mini Thins."

"What are those?"