I walked back into the living room area of our hotel suite and Jorge was snickering at me while he began getting the package ready for Heaven. I found the pills and counted some out for her and another chick who was coming from Orlando to buy a decent amount.
“Fuck so funny Georgie?” I asked, using his childhood nickname.
“You STILL fucking with them cigarettes?” he asked and started laughing even harder.
“Georgie… what’s the difference between making double your money back off cartons of cigarettes and doubling up off pounds of choke?” I asked, not seeing what was so amusing.
“Man… shi-iiiiit” he mumbled, shaking his head in disbelief.
“I get no problems buying and shipping a box of 24 cartons up and getting my money… NONE… that’s money in my pocket that I really don’t even have to think about… what Imma do? Fed time for sending a bunch of cigarettes to a friend in New York?” I asked, laughing. “YOU the one bugging man… not me” I said flatly and handed him a bag of fifty double stacked Ecstasy pills.
“Do your thing carmello” he said and stood up to answer the door.
“Mark my words… the price of smokes gonna go up everywhere but the South nigga” I said, ending the conversation.
Heaven walked in looking really good. She plopped herself down on the couch and looked around.
“Yall chilling up in this bitch huh?” she asked nobody in particular.
“Little bit” Jorge said, passing her the bag of pills.
“You wanna drink?” I asked, trying to be polite.
“Yeah… sure” she said and walked over to where I was standing.
I filled half a cup with orange juice and dropped about three ounces of some vodka that Jorge had sitting around and passed it to her. She took a long gulp and sat in the chair looking at Jorge expectingly.
“Ok… THIS… is a digital scale” he began, kneeling down in front of her as he flipped it over. “You ever use one before?” he asked.
“No… not really… I mean I seen people use it but that’s all” she replied, looking at it closely.
“Well it is really easy… this switch here sets it to measure in grams and ounces see?” he asked, and clicked it back and forth.
I sipped my drink and sat at the large table with a little stuffed animal I’d picked up from the convenience store. I took a knife and cut a little over two inches of stitching loose, pulled out some of the stuffing and threw it in the trash. Heaven was watching me closely but I did not care. I stuffed the quarter pound up inside the stuffed animal, picked up the thread I just tore out and threaded my needle. I looked over at her for a moment as if to hint to her that maybe she should pay more attention to him then me. She turned her attention back to Jorge and the scale as I began sewing the stuffed animal back together neatly and fluffing it back up to appear normally. I took another swig of my drink as Jorge continued on.
“There’s twenty eight grams in an ounce… sixteen in a half ounce…four ounces in a quarter pound and eight in a half pound” he said quietly, as Heaven nodded her head. “So… sixteen ounces is a pound ight?” he asked, making sure she understood. It wasn’t rocket science but it could make her look ignorant to try and make a sale and she didn’t know her weights and measures. “Now… I’m not gonna give you nothing less than a qutie pie… a quarter pound… but what you do with it is your business ok? If you sell the whole shit to someone get my two hundred FIRST… Anything you charge over that is yours so if you can bang ‘em for two-fifty then that’s you… hell if you can sell one to a white boy for three hundred I don’t give a fuck but just have ME… we clear?” he asked, as I stood up and dropped the stuffed animal into her lap. She nodded in agreement as I sat down next to her.
“Now… I know you’re a tenderfoot so this is how you can rock it… If I was you up in that club… I wouldn’t sell nothing less than quakes… quarter ounces… and charge thirty ‘cause it’s some good shit” I said, splitting an Optimo as I spoke. “You do that and you got one hundred-twenty off an ounce which means you sell one more and you got two hundred forty and can pass that two hundred this way with no problems” I said, filling the Optimo with some weed that Jorge had been breaking up with his fingers since I started talking. “Do that two more times and you puttin’ two hundred and eighty dollars in your hand from fuckin’ with us off one QP… see how that works?” I asked. She smiled and nodded her head with the realization that if she could move a quarter pound every three days or so in a week she would be making five hundred and sixty extra dollars for herself and two grand or better every month.
“Now you can be greedy if you want and grind that shit out and sell dimes but why bother?” Jorge chimed in. She shook her head listening, taking it all in. “If you need more money just focus on selling more weight” he added. “You need coke?” Jorge asked, just coming out and asking. I frowned, I didn’t think the time was right to be hitting her up with a bunch of hustles at one time.
“Damn Jorge we just dropped a QP and fifty pills on the girl and she aint come back with dollar one YET” I said, shaking my head and standing up.
“Look here ma… go handle your business… sell shorty that QP in the morning or whatever and get to work on them pills… we gonna have another QP for you when we see you” I said, walking toward the door.
She took the cue and stood up; swallowing what remained of her drink.
“When the next time yall coming through the club?” she asked smiling.
“Shit… after we slide you this next QP it aint gonna be like that mami… we might pop through here or there” I warned her. “So don’t start getting geesed the fuck up” I said to myself, as I pulled the door open. I was ready for her to go elsewhere and the banalities of the conversation we were having was agitating me.
“When we come in with the QP we gonna spend on you mami… help you get some tips and shit” Jorge said, as if he really had her best interests at heart.
I closed the door and walked back to the table; pouring more vodka in my cup as Jorge started roasting the Optimo.
“Yo man… why you always try to overburden people and shit?” I asked, admonishing Jorge about that bullshit he liked to pull too early in the relationship. “That’s that greedy shit man… you gonna get that girl pinched if you don’t let her develop her hustle on her own man” I said, getting up and finding my Yankee jacket.
“Yeah… but I know it’s some caine heads up in that bitch… and I want their money” Jorge replied.
“Shit… ME TOO!” I replied, “But I don’t need a trip to the bing over it… we got money nigga” I said, letting him know that I wasn’t trying to hear it.
“I aint trying to have to be bonding her ass out over possession with intent to distribute charges… specially not for no damn blow” I said, grabbing the keys. “Let’s go see about that other spot… check on shorty and see if she been bout her business” I suggested.
“Yeah… and get some pussy too” Jorge said needlessly. “Yo… you think that chick like to treat her nose?” he asked.
“I doubt that… anytime I ever mentioned some coke around someone that sniffed they would subconsciously start playing with their nose… wiping it with their thumb and shit like that” I said. “Shorty didn’t even seem fazed at all when you mentioned it… she aint on no powders man.” I said dismissively.
“Ight bet… Let’s get the fuck outta here carmello” Jorge said, putting the other half of the blunt out in the ashtray and dropping it in his jacket.
