Memoirs of a Steroid Kingpin, Episode 01: “In the Beginning”

“I can do this.”

I was researching anabolic steroid sellers on iSteroids, a source forum website, which boasts around a million hits a month, the biggest in the world. It was a review-based website, where sources’ information is posted, and reviews were posted based on a myriad of factors regarding quality of the steroid products and customer service. I was thinking of trying to become a source on this website, and I had to make sure that my prices could compete with the rest of the world. Gene had suggested that I become assertive with the Chinese source that we both used for steroids. He informed me that he dictated the price he paid for the steroids. Once Gene started ordering more and more, bigger and bigger orders, one day, he simply told the source how much he was going to remunerate, and the source agreed. Damn. It was that easy? Gene pointed out that I had been with this source for a long time; I had made a lot of decent sized orders, and that I should tell the source how much I wanted to pay. So, that is what I did. And it worked.

I informed the Chinese source that I knew Gene, and that I had been the one to give him Gene’s business. Moreover, I apprised the source that, in order for me to begin purchasing larger quantities like Gene, it was necessary that I pay lower prices, so I could move larger volume. The Chinese source acknowledged that he knew Gene, and that Gene was a great man. This, in and of itself, was amazing. This source was one of the biggest anabolic steroid dealers in the world at the time, moving massive quantities of steroids. The fact that this source instantly recognized Gene as his best customer proved that the narrative Gene touted regarding his success, was in fact real. Prior to making this deal, I used to pay one hundred dollars for twenty-five milliliter bottles of injectable steroids, and fifty dollars for ten milliliter bottles. Just from mentioning Gene’s name and using his technique of being assertive, I was able to negotiate the prices down to fifty dollars per twenty-five milliliter bottle, and twenty-five dollars per ten milliliter vial. I cut my product cost in half. Most dealers at this time were selling ten milliliter vials for seventy dollars or more. I could undercut the market by selling my ten milliliter vials for sixty dollars, and still maintain a one-hundred-forty percent profit margin. As something comparable, a department store usually averages a thirty-three percent profit on the products they sell. Restaurants, which are expensive to run and require notoriously high profits in order to break even, usually have an eighty percent profit margin. I could afford to charge competitive prices and still maintain significantly higher profit margins than any conventional business. The economics of this were fantastic. I also had something unique. I had twenty-five milliliter vials, which no one else was selling. I decided I could charge one hundred and twenty-five dollars for these, as a special volume price. With the twenty-five milliliter vials, people tended to buy more volume, and hence, they were more profitable. I was making seventy-five dollars per twenty-five milliliter vial, and I would maintain a one-hundred-twenty-five percent profit margin. That is five dollars per milliliter, and, at this time, no one on the internet was selling at such inconceivably low prices. Now, I could compete with any other supplier in the market.

The economics of this were fantastic. I also had something unique. I had twenty-five milliliter vials, which no one else was selling.

“I can do this.”

This was becoming real.

What should I do? How am I to proceed? I had just gotten off parole for a conviction from three years prior for committing this exact same crime. I completed a short six-month state prison sentence and two years of parole. Conventional wisdom unequivocally suggests that I do not put myself in a position to suffer the potential consequences for committing this very act… again.

On the other hand, what else was I to do? When I was twenty-one, I was training with the owner of a Raymond James branch office to become an investment broker. I was deep in the throes of alcoholism at the time. When I was just a few months from taking my series seven exam, which would solidify my prospects to become a successful broker, I was convicted of two DWI’s – just four months apart. The second was a felony. Drinking and driving is horrendous, and I am accountable for those actions. I did suffer consequences. With that being said, the resonating consequences from that felony would adversely affect the rest of my life. People with a felony cannot get an investment broker’s license. I lost that opportunity. Years later, I applied for a job at a temp agency. While I was in the office, filling out the application, the staff members their indicated that if I checked the box stating that I had a felony, it would limit the jobs for which I could be utilized. So, I didn’t check the box. I was sent to a Verizon store, where I flourished. I showed promise and they loved me there. I was soon to be promoted and made a permanent full-time employee. Suddenly, one day, the temp agency told me that my criminal history report indicated I had lied about not having a felony. They immediately fired me, and Verizon was no longer interested. I was unable to obtain anything but the most menial of jobs. I felt like I had nothing else to do and nothing else to lose.

While I was on parole, I was forced to get a job as a dishwasher. I was so despondent, I started drinking every night that I worked because I had to become a besotted drone just to quell the anguish in my head. That led to more errant behavior, and I quickly popped positive on two drug tests for cocaine. After that, parole sent me to an inpatient rehab for six months. I learned a lot from this rehab, lessons I would take with me for the rest of my life; including management and delegation skills that would aid me in this most imminent endeavor. Upon my return home, in an effort to avoid a demeaning job, I decided to volunteer at a local hospital to satisfy my requirement to work. This time, I managed to abstain from alcohol and drugs. After volunteering at the hospital for six months, and doing well, I requested a position in the emergency room. I was given a job as an Emergency Room Tech, essentially assisting doctors and nurses in various ways. Emergency Room Tech is a euphemism; another term for this job is an aide. This position only required a GED. I have a degree in biochemistry, but this was the best I could do with two felonies on my record.

While I was on parole, I was forced to get a job as a dishwasher. I was so despondent.

At this time, I was working very hard, full time, at a job that did not pay enough to support basic human needs. I was educated, but I lacked any appreciable skillset or the understanding of how to help people or create value for myself. I used to live with my grandmother, but while I was on parole, she had a stroke and was living in a nursing home. Now, I was living in my grandmother’s small house, rent free; fortunately for me or I would have been homeless. I was dirt poor. I knew that selling steroids again could lead back to prison, but for me, and the millions of ex-felons in a similar position, it was better to live in state prison, or federal prison, than to live in the prison of poverty.

Even while on parole, I started selling steroids again to make ends meet. Unfortunately, I lived in a small city, and I didn’t have many clients. I wasn’t using alcohol or drugs; I was living by myself; I started to feel a little better, and I was beginning to feel ambitious. Now, I faced the decision of whether to become a steroid source on the internet. I needed more money. I could not afford to do nothing, for I had no prospects and I did not know what else to do.

All my mind could conjure were countless images of motivational memes aggrandizing the concept of taking risks: “The biggest risk in life is not taking a risk at all”; “When we stop taking risks, we stop living life”; “Fight the mediocrity that is bred in a life lived safely away from pressures and struggles and the unknown”; “Taking risks are how legends are made”; “If you don’t take risks, you will always work for someone who does”. Fuck it. I’m in. Let’s do it, I thought. Besides, this probably won’t even work, and if it does, I will gain a few more clients, maybe ten at the most, and that is all I will need. Then, I will be comfortable. Ten clients, ordering once every few months…. I will make two hundred, at the most three hundred extra dollars a week. Can you imagine an extra three hundred dollars a week? I would be good. I would be all set.

“If you don’t take risks, you will always work for someone who does”

I had done my research, and I could compete, and even offer more competitive prices than anyone else I was able find on the internet. The next step was to increase my inventory, so I could offer a wide variety of products, and so I would have enough product on-hand in the unlikely event that a copious quantity was ordered upon the grand opening of my new business. Luckily, I had just made a couple good sales, so I had bankrolled a couple grand. I was able to use my new negotiated prices, and pour the last couple grand I had to my name into inventory for the impending internet launch.

Next >>: Episode 02 (BD Supplements)

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Memoirs of a Steroid Kingpin (Table of Contents)

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Ryan’s Root’s real-life autobiographical story is a must-read account of his rise and fall as one of the largest anabolic steroid dealers on the Internet.

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