The Straight Man by Barry Gifford

Author:Barry Gifford [Gifford, Barry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Crime
ISBN: 9780916870119
Google: 4GpoHQAACAAJ
Amazon: 0916870111
Publisher: Black Lizard Books
Published: 1978-03-15T07:00:00+00:00

28

The idiot didn't arrive until almost ten. As he came through the door, without even checking to see if anyone else was there, he said, "Hey, I got some coke, really good nosebleed, only fifty a gram."

"Hi, idiot. C'mon in. Sit down. I got a little something for you to give those people in Cadillacs."

"Oh yeah, what? Some of my other people have a ton of Colombo."

"Shut up for a fuckin' minute, you goddamn idiot! I'm now officially though with the whole fuckin' dope scene. I'm out. From now on I'm just a user. Got that?"

"Sure, man. But this Colombo is really good shit."

"Listen, idiot. The only cat that ever had it down was the Mexican on that ship. Shit, one night me and another genius spent hours in a boat we borrowed, tooling around the bay trying to find a bale or two. You want to know what happened? I'll tell you. We didn't find batshit. We took the boat back to the marina, and as we're walking away, there's this old redneck says, 'Hey, you boys know what this is?' We go over, and you know what he'd hooked? A fifty pound bale, with lettering on it, Producto de Colombia. Right there, and here we are, half sick from all that bouncing around out there. We gave him fifty bucks for the whole fucking bale. He didn't even know what it was. We spent three days dryin' the shit in the bathroom, and we turned it for a buck-and-a-half a pound. Now, just don't talk to me about how much you got. You didn't know how much you had the last time."

"Yeah. Well, those people were supposed to be so fucking good. Your man, Moe, in Chicago. All that crap. And now those people want their money back."

"Money back, my ass. There was about four hundred pounds there, right? And I know cop price on the beach is maybe ten dollars a pound for quantity, so they maybe lost four grand. Plus transportation costs. Plus profit for risk. So, say ten grand tops. They were turning to the fat man for one-thirty-five, and the kids were turning to us for one-forty, and we were gonna turn to Jay and Ted for one-fifty, right? Am I right or wrong?"

The idiot nodded, and said, "Right. And they want us to each pay back ten thousand. I don't have that kind of money, so I've got to keep dealing. I don't want to deal. I just want to make enough to buy me some good cameras."

"Idiot, I wish you luck. Now, here's ten grand. Give it to those people. I don't want to see them, any of them, around here again. And if you fuck this up, I will personally blow you off, understand?"

"Wow, yeah. Where did you get the money?"

"That is absolutely none of your fuckin' business, got it? And I'll cop a gram of your coke, if it's any good."

"Oh, man. All I have with me is a taste."

"Well, fine, let me try it.

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