Duct Tape Airlines and Other Stories by A. D. Gatto

Author:A. D. Gatto
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Publish Green

CHAPTER EIGHT

Coco Loco

Things had changed a bit in the two years I was away. America was firmly in the grip of Disco mania, a scourge replete with platform shoes and insipid music. Nightclubs were the playground of the hip and conspicuous consumption was the new code of the elite. Cocaine had long since surpassed Marijuana as America's recreational drug of choice. The 'me' generation had arrived.

I learned in the summer of 1978, that there was no future for me left in Connecticut. In my absence, my supply sources, had either dried up or made other arrangements. It was clear to me that my future success was to be made elsewhere. I had made more contacts in the last two years, than I had in my entire career, and most of these were in one location, New York City. Accordingly, I took a studio apartment on East 16th Street and Third Avenue in Manhattan, the business Capital of the World. My first order of business was to look up my friends from prison, who were now on the street, and see what opportunities might be available. As I expected, everybody I contacted was ripe to get something going, I was sure I could put something interesting together in a rather short period of time. Little did I know!

The first person I contacted was a small time coke dealer friend of mine by the name of Richard Davina. Richweed as he was known, owned a restaurant in New York's fashionable upper east side. He dealt Cocaine as a sideline, basically to finance the endless party that he hosted. He was a generous friend, and a standup guy who was as honest as it gets. His restaurant, Pardon's, became a base of operations for me over the next several years. I had met Richard in Allenwood, where he was doing two years for sale of cocaine. He had gotten out a few months before me and had already picked up his life where he had left off. As I have already said, he was very generous and helped me acclimate to life in the big city. He also proved to be a source for pot, on a small level, that I was able to take to Connecticut and sell to my old friends. We built a fairly regular business, but it was only on a subsistence level. I needed to broaden my horizons, I had a million people I could sell to, but I lacked a good source. I needed someone who could provide product in quantity, and at a price that could get me into the wholesale market. That is where the money is made. I didn't have to wait long.

It was about midnight, when the phone in my apartment rang.

"Hey man." Said the voice on the line. "What's happenin."

I immediately recognized the voice as my friend Antoine, the architect of the infamous night train scam, the largest Marijuana smuggle to be busted to date. I knew he would be getting out soon as we had made sure to contact one another when we hit the street.

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