WTFWJCVDD – Edition Twenty-One
I have been in need of product for some time, and could not seem to find any. So I started searching for a new dealer, but it’s very hard to trust a stranger from the start. I subtly asked around, but none of my friends knew of someone reliable with some good shit. Like the answer to everything else today, I turned to the Internet. It seems like a foolish idea, but it worked out successfully for my escorts so I figured I’d give it a shot. I didn’t expect to find anything, but after five minutes of searching I found a list of suppliers on Craigslist. Everyone was trying to find buyers on there so I read through a bunch of encrypted posts, sent replies to a few solid ads and waited. Within minutes my inbox was full and I knew soon my appetite for a fix would be too.
I emailed back and forth with this guy, we’ll call him Rondel S., or R. Smith. I asked him some pertinent questions to see if he knew his shit and I finally decided he’d be the one. We agreed to meet at a gas station half way between us for the exchange. With a C-note in my pocket, I drove there with the top down enjoying the beautiful sunny day.
When I got to the gas station, I pulled into the back and called Rondel to tell him I was there. He said he was running ten minutes late and I wondered if this was going to be legit or not. In my head I had rationalized that if he were a cop, his post, this meeting and the exchange would all be entrapment and I’d be off the hook. Even still, I didn’t want to deal with that possibility and I was anxious.
Finally I got a call back and Rondel said he had just pulled in and wanted to know where I was. I said look for the red Ferrari Maranello in the back. He pulled up next to me in his gold 1990 VW Jetta. We get out and I walked up to him, a spiked hair Russian cluberesque type with designer clothes, expensive shoes and so much bling I had to divert my eyes from the glare (maybe he does well with this after all). I pull the hundo out of my pocket and he trades me for the goods. We shake hands and part ways, both with a smile on our face – his definitely a little creepier than mine. I get in my car, watch him drive off and open the case with my score – a burned DVD loaded with three thousand dollars worth of software. Damn it feels good to be a Gangsta …
Until the next Kumate…
For your consideration:
If I’m a motherlover, and you’re a motherlover, should we fuck each other’s mother?
About this entry
You’re currently reading “WTFWJCVDD – Edition Twenty-One,” an entry on YourBias.com presents WTFWJCVDD
- Published:
- May 18, 2009 / 7:01 AM
- Category:
- WTFWJCVDD
3 Comments
Jump to comment form | comment rss [?] | trackback uri [?]