We'll, let's get right to it. It was 2004, and I had just quit working at a timeshare resort in Williamsburg. It was fun for a minute there cause it was the first job where I had to dress up everyday. The part I hated about the job was trying to trick people into owning their vacations. What was crazy about it was that our sales managers would tell us not to talk numbers to the potential buyers because this whole timeshare purchase didn't make financial sense. We were trained to sell it on love, family,and health. I enjoyed putting on clothes, and my co-workers loved "Bob White". (I'm a funny dude) Anyway, I had just quit and went to see my Mom. After visiting with her for a few hours, I went out on the block to kick it with the fellas. I was standing in front of the convenience store when I ran into the guy from the barbershop. I had quit working for him a year before. There's that quit word again. Well, after a little bit of catching up, he asked if I wanted to come back to work. I accepted.
This time around, the shop was different. I could feel it. It was a new guy working there that had heard a lot about me. I could sense that he felt that I was there to take over. He was also fed some wrong info about me, and I could feel him posturing.
One day, I went into the back of the shop. The back was always a place where we would sip a cold beer, or taste a shot of good liquor. We'll now, blunts were burning. Not just after hours, but all day....everyday. On this particular day, I could smell the sweet aroma of a crack laced blunt. Now, before this time, I had tried a laced blunt plenty of times. Hell, around '89 or '90, a lot of crack dealers would collect the shake from "choppin up", and put it in their "jays". It's just what folk did in the late 80's. It wasn't something that I would do often cause I just didn't like the feeling. But, I still never frowned upon those who indulged. As I was saying, on this particular day, I could smell the sweet aroma of a "laced one".
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