10 Ways to Tell a Business Is a Drug Front

Lead

Maybe you have one in your neighborhood: a dusty, dark building that's always standing on the verge of getting condemned. They're a "business." What do they do? Do they sell anything? Pay close attention next time you hazard a visit. Probably they're a drug front, a place to launder money through. Keep this handy, and see how many of the 10 Ways to Tell a Business Is a Drug Front you can check off.

Pagers

10. Pagers

Whether they sell pagers, make pagers, or use pagers, you can be assured that dirty money is flowing like a heavy day.

It's bad being ignored by a texting employee—it's worse being ignored by someone on their pagers. "When you're done in 1992, can I please order my bullshit food? I'll have the 'Sandwich,' please."

And the pay phone down the block is always tied up. We're trying to make a collect call.

It's Always Amateur Hour

9. It's Always Amateur Hour

The lone employee looks like he's never made anything in his life. He picks up a knife and holds it like a caveman hunting with a microwave.

He doesn't know how to use it, but he sure as hell is going to try. One banana smoothie coming up.

Cash Only

8. Cash Only

We live in the fucking future, and we want to pay with our cards.

All your change is old, crumpled bills. Old twenties, back from when money was green.

The cash register is a briefcase. Employee tells us they just upgraded from a shoebox. Store's closed when the dude shuts the clasps. No exceptions. System's already down.

Their Business is Business

7. Their Business is Business

A man sits at a laptop in an empty room with white walls. Talk to him.

“What do you guys do here?”

“It's a business, man.”

“But what do you do?”

“We had a great third quarter.”

“Doing what?”

“Making business. Business is booming.”

“I'll just let myself out.”

“It's a business, man.”

Out of Everything

6. Out of Everything

The shelves look like the zombie apocalypse happened a month prior. They only have bad candy. Necco wafers, maybe Chunky bars. Dental floss, but no toothpaste. Bleach, but no laundry detergent. They only have Aleve.

And you can be sure they are all out of baking soda and Sudafed.

Grand Opening Forever

5. Grand Opening Forever

The Grand Opening sign hangs perpendicular to the floor. Under new management? What management? It's just some dude who says it's his first week on the job. We've walked past this place every day for a year. Maybe two years. Ten years. He's had something like 522 first weeks on the job.

That's a long time to be wearing a slightly askew party hat.

Packaged Baked Goods

4. Packaged Baked Goods

Got to love the bakery that only stocks plastic-wrapped snack cakes. We see you, Little Debbie. We'd rather have an oatmeal cream pie than a fresh baked muffin where the main ingredient is baking soda.

And then we realized we'd never really lived until we had a Big Texas.

You Are the Only Customer

3. You Are the Only Customer

The lone employee retreats to the back to pretend to look for something, and the loneliness overtakes you.

Here you are. The last person left.

You are legend.

Where the fuck is your damned sandwich?

No Loosies

2. No Loosies

Any self-respecting business will give you two for a dollar. Not selling loosies is an indication that a bodega doesn't want money. And they want to make us mad. And they don't want us to smoke. What a lousy business model. However, this is the exact business model for a drug front.

Policy is "No Drug Dogs Allowed"

1. Policy is "No Drug Dogs Allowed"

We guess this is a smart way to get at it. Seems almost like putting up a sign that says WE HAVE DRUGS HERE. But why would a store with drugs put up that sign? They must not have drugs.

So it's the perfect place to have drugs!

We're confused and a little scared. Best to just leave it alone.