Chinese Weed Dealer

weeddealer

Cole and I got some MacDonald’s at 12:30 am and after chomping on some fries in the parking lot he dropped me off at my house. I took my McDonalds garbage with me and as I unlocked the front door an approaching figure asked, “Do you smoke weed?”

“I do, yeah.”

“Have you ever tried Chinese weed?”

“Chinese weed?”

“Check it out.” He said, carrying a small box up to me.

“It’s okay. I don’t have any money anyway.”

“Well what do you have?”

“I don’t know. Credit card?”

“A credit card. Very fancy.”

“Yeah,” I laughed. “Pretty fancy.”

“Here.” He handed a heavy little cardboard box over to me. It was wrapped in cellophane and had some strange drawings and characters written across the top. “What is this?” I asked

“It’s weed.”

“I don’t think this is weed.”

He laughed and admitted, “I just found it on the street. I was jus going to sell it to get something to eat.” He looked at my McDonald’s bag.

“I’d give you some of this but I ate it all. It’s just trash.”

“Must be nice.”

I gave him the couple dollars I had in my pocket and tried to return his Chinese Weed. “I don’t want it,” He said

“Well I don’t want it.”

“Just keep it. I gave you something nice so if I ever come back you can give me something for it.”

“Honestly, just take it. You can sell it to someone else.” He was already walking. “What am I going to do with this?” I called out.

“You can stick up your bum!”

I opened up the front door and had to give it to him. That was a pretty good parting line.

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