Last weekend I drove through Linville, Boone & Blowing Rock, NC, helping Dear Lil Brother scope out an old house he bought up there on the slope of Grandfather Mountain, our old family stomping ground. I noticed a high-zoot restaurant that was a wonderful dive bar in the early 70s. I bought many pounds of pot at that place. Back then you could get ten kilo bricks (about 22 lb.) of pretty good Jamaican (tepid by todays weed standard) for $1,500 if you knew where to look. Id sell 3/4 of it ($15/ounce) and take my profit in smoke. A quarter-pound lasted me a week or two, depending on the density of company and how much I had to stay clear-ish headed to do things, so a couple of 10 key trips per year sufficed. The car of choice was a 65 Mustang, whose trunk neatly fit 10 kilos of brick marijuana. A Miata might fit it too, but packing would take longer and you dont want to spend a lot of time out in the open doing that. Better to just toss in rectangular loads, slam the trunk and have a 289 moving you down the mountain. I put little prizes in the baggies -- a roach clip or a tiny scale or a clay pipe. Unlike Cracker Jack I weighed the contents before adding the prize -- I never was much of a businessman. }}}}
Posted on: Sat, 15 Mar 2014 17:31:55 +0000
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