Women Talk About Picking Up Drugs for the First Time Alone

Almost all drug dealers are men. Don't fact check me on that – it's just something everyone knows, like that The Wire is actually boring and ham-mayo sandwiches are better with white bread. So, as a woman, getting into a strange car with one of these men – usually late at night – to buy illegal substances isn't ideal. Plus, it still feels socially unacceptable, even in friendship groups that take a lot of drugs; men often have the dealers' numbers and do the deed for female friends. But this is 2017. Who needs to wait for a man to do anything… something, something, feminism? Plus, if you're going to take drugs, you should do so safely – and a big part of that is knowing what you're buying, rather than just taking what your male mates give you.

Here are some stories from girls about the first time they picked up alone.

I've always got my drugs from the people I'm dating – romance! After my most recent break-up I realised that I don't want another relationship until I start getting saggy and stop getting attention, therefore if I want to continue my horrible, delightful life spending a good little proportion of my salary on coke, I'd have to start getting it myself. For a while me and my female flatmate would go and pick up together from a dude who'd meet us around the back of our estate.

One time she was out and I needed to pick up for that night. I texted the guy and had to wait two hours – for savvy entrepreneurs, drug dealers are terrible timekeepers – during which I got nervous. It was chill, though. The dealer was busy so I found his cousin in the seat next to me, who was really fit. We flirted, he called me peng and then I left with drugs in pocket. I couldn't believe it'd been so easy. I half walk-ran to my room and fist-pumped to Judas Priest's "Breaking the Law" while finishing my make-up.

That was a nice initiation and it made me feel really powerful – a lot better than the following week when I picked up MDMA from a different group of lads outside work and they all started hooting with laughter when I walked towards the car and they clocked it was a tiny blonde girl who had been texting them. But you win some, you lose some.

I always get my drugs via my boyfriend or male friends – A) because they're all way more druggy than me and have multiple numbers and know what "flake" means and stuff, and B) because sorting it out always looked like a huge fucking effort. One weekend, though, I had some girl friends round for dinner and we got through like eight bottles of wine in an hour and needed to sober up a bit, so I took it upon myself to buy some coke.

I was kind of nervous calling the guy – what do you say? Is there a code? Is it lame to use a code? Do you put a voice on? – but that was actually fairly straightforward: I just said what I wanted and where I was, and he was like, "Cool, fine." I then spent the next half an hour freaking out about getting into the back of a blacked out Astra with three guys I'd never met. But the time came and it was a woman's voice on the phone, which was reassuring and – I imagine – quite rare?

Anyway, I went out, and it turned out my first ever drug deal was with the loveliest pregnant woman, who was driving a Smart car. So it all worked out absolutely fine.

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I started smoking weed when I was a teenager. I hung around with a bunch of boys, so basically I just smoked their weed, and then the weed of whoever my boyfriend was at the time. On the few occasions that I was with them when they picked up, the whole process just seemed boring as fuck – sitting in a car outside the estate for an hour, waiting for some long guy to finally come out after saying "gimme five minutes" every time you called him at 20-minute intervals. I never used to smoke on my own at that point, so I was perfectly happy leeching.

Eventually, the relationships, the friendships and my teenage years came to an end, and I found myself a lonely stoner girl who now had to pick up her own weed or stay sober, like one of those baby animals on Planet Earth who has to suddenly fend for itself for the first time or it will starve to death.

For me, the scary part wasn't getting into some random dude's car or whatever, but the initial reach out. Do I call? Text? WhatsApp because there's encryption? Should I use a code word for drugs? I think women can often get imposter syndrome when it comes to picking up weed – it's still seen as quite a male drug by a lot of people, and even though it was my first time picking up I wanted to make sure the dealer didn't think I was a dickhead who didn't know a ten bag from a score. When the time came, I (luckily) didn't get ripped off, and we actually had a pretty good working relationship until he decided to become a used car salesman recently and I had to find a new guy.

The first time I picked up, I – an idiot 17-year-old – got the train into town by myself to purchase precisely three ecstasy tablets from a boy I was friends with on Myspace. The only things I remember about him now are that he wore a leather jacket and slicked his hair back in an extremely "it me, Kenickie" sort of way, and definitely had a quote from On The Road in his bio. He was alright, to be fair. Just gave me my pills in an extremely public setting and I left after five minutes to have a magical night in my parents' living room with my two best friends and a nu rave compilation I personally curated and burned onto three CDs. That was the only time we ever met in person, but I wish I could remember his surname so I can find out whether he works in a pub, is dead or writes for VICE.

Oh my god, my first time was so embarrassing. I met the guy in the corridor of my block of flats with a friend of mine, who'd also never bought drugs before, and we did the whole deal thing, and then as we were walking away me and my friend were like, "Yeah! We did it! We bought drugs!" and high-fived. And then we heard some sniggering, looked around and the guy was still there, laughing at us.

I learned pretty quickly after leaving uni that pretty much all the basic girls in my year had no clue how to pick up drugs, and kept texting me at weekends asking, being like, "Hey, how are you… also." Obviously I ditched them pretty quickly because, honestly, my dealer at the time was this guy called Manny who'd rock up five hours late stinking of weed, then give you all the drugs for free – which was nice, but I'd rather not burn a half day waiting for him. Now, I mostly don't do drugs. but if I do I'll just do a big order that will last me a couple of months because it's so fucking tedious.

I think it's really important that girls pick up their own drugs! So often my female friends have no idea what they're taking – they're relying on their boyfriends or male friends to pick up for them. I've had mates accidentally do 2C-B guys gave them because they thought they were regular pills – not fun when you're tripping your tits off for days. Plus, you're more likely to get ripped off if you're buying drugs off a guy mate who's bought it off a dealer – don't trust your friends; get your own dealer, lads. It's kind of awkward the first couple of times you pick up, but you learn how to do that whole tedious drug dealer chat while they drive you around the block, and if you're really prang about it just bring a mate with you or text someone when you're getting in their car. And obviously don't just buy from a random dealer – get a number from someone you trust.

I was 14 and still in secondary school. My best friend lived on an estate in Camberwell, and our mate who we usually picked up off wasn't around, so we found ourselves desperate. Her stepsister tells us of this dealer living above a chicken shop on the main road, so we were like, "Fuck it, let's do this." We went straight up the stairs to a door with CCTV and shit, and then this cubby hole opens, the shittest deal for a 20 bag appears and we give the money. I was about to leave when the dealer suddenly goes, "Oh, you're a nice English rose, how are old are you?" I told him 16 and then was forced to give him my number because he had decided I would be perfect for his son. Afterwards we had to sit in the chicken shop with a can of pop to not bait out the operation going on upstairs.

I felt pretty accomplished, but shitty about the amount of weed I got – we literally got like two doobies out of the bag. I was also quite flattered he tried to set me up with his son, even though he never called. I felt pretty badass, actually! And I've picked up my own drugs ever since.

More on women and drugs:

Why Women Take Fewer Drugs Than Men

How Your Menstrual Cycle Can Affect Your Reaction to MDMA

Meet the Woman Testing Your Drugs at This Summer's UK Festivals