Saturday, June 3, 2023

The Wilderness Years - While the Billy Goat Sings

 There were times when i had to admire the balls Billy Goat had, for he possessed either huge balls or almost unprecedented stupidity... or maybe a combination of both... you see the Billy Goat kept getting further and further behind on the upkeep of his payments. When he'd arrive at my place, backpack in hand, it was becoming commonplace for him to hand me a stack of money well short of what he owed and then ask for a couple more pounds. The number of stories i'd hear about why he didn't have all my cash varied from somewhat believable to outrageously stupid... but he always had one, some bit of misfortune that befell him or someone he knew and i'll give Billy credit he had a decent argument for why i should be so kind and wise as to give him more gear when his tab kept rising, like a charming drunk conning another drink off an empathetic bartender, except he was not charming and i was not all that empathetic... especially when it concerned getting all my fucking money. 

One fine afternoon the Billy Goat arrived at my apartment to inform me that he was still in the process of collecting cash from his minions but that he really needed three more pounds of grass. I stood patiently near the armoire, a bit of furniture bought from Ikea that housed my triple beam and copious amounts of ganja. It seemed that tragedy had befallen the Billy Goat's girl and her roommate and Billy wanted to play the knight in filthy armor... they were short on the rent which meant he had to help them, which meant he didn't have nearly enough to pay what he owed while in the same breath asking me to front him all three pounds, remind you this would be fucking six grand he'd owe me once he walked out the door and since he now owed me over two K already i was none to pleased with the current situation. I calmly looked at him and said, let me get this straight, you gave my fucking money to your girlfriend to cover her rent? that's the story? Yes, he replied, but assured me he'd have it back to me in no time. Like the other fucking two grand you owe? He grinned his stupid grin and whined, weeeeeellll not all of it but i'll definitely have the money for these three and probably a little more. Probably a little more i chuckled, you need to do a bit better than that my friend or you may not have a connection. Billy then laid out his argument, one could tell all that expensive education under that Golden Dome had paid at least some dividends, as he rolled out his rationale... I can't make your money back unless i have a way to get that money and the fastest way to get it is if i have weed to sell, the confidence in his voice was waning as my gaze turned into a glare. 

I stood looking at the triple beam on the top shelf of the armoire, then i turned and spoke... Here's what's going to happen, i began, i'm going to front you two pounds... he began to speak and i stopped him... you just fucking listen, i growled, and when you come back to my fucking place you'll have all the money for those two pounds plus some, if not you'll be on the hook to me and i will come looking for you, dig? you also won't get any more fucking grass unless what i just said happens understand? He nodded and began to speak...  na-na-na i shot back, listen to what i'm saying, you bring me all that and i'll front you another one or two and the same rules apply, you need to start paying shit down not having your tab explode, you should be fucking happy i'm giving you these two, fucking i don't give a shit about your lady and her friend being homeless, they can turn tricks or better yet get a fucking job, why is it that my money is paying their fucking rent? i can tell you most certainly i'm not all that fucking jazzed when i have to dig into my pocket to cover your fucking tab when i head to see my guy and reup. Fucking understand? He nodded but i knew all he really heard was that he was going to get two pounds yet the fucking muppet still pressed the issue. I really need three, he said. And i don't give a fuck, i shot back, you get two, you need the next one? come back with the money for at least one and i'll give you another, i'm getting a little tired of the fucking bullshit every time you turn up and are short my cash which these days is every time you show up. I'm just saying
i can't get your money unless i have product, he mumbled sheepishly. I get what your fucking saying! i shot back, i understand the fucking logic, that being said i ain't fucking happy about it and you should start worrying cuz it's not good for you when i'm not happy, got it. He nodded. 

I turned and grabbed two pounds and threw them on the scale, the triple beam moved and we both watched as the scale went north of the 448 gram mark that was a pound. This one is twelve  grams over, this one sixteen, i said, i suggest you use some of that as your head stash and move the rest and get me my fucking money. The Billy Goat put the weed in his backpack and then began to hem and haw about how he had to get going. There is part of the game that brings out the worst in people, that makes one evil when it comes to dealing with people. I could tell the Billy Goat was in a rush to leave so i kept talking so he'd have to sit and listen. You said it was your girlfriend's rent money? i asked.. He stumbled a bit and started rambling, well not exactly hers but her place, it was some of her roommates. Oh, i said, i see... so you're playing the hero and swooping in to bail them out with my money, well you know there are always ways to pay me back on that account isn't there... his face went pale as he realized what i was getting at... not that i would ever act on such an insinuation but the threat was always effective when it came to getting motherfuckers attention in the debt collection department. If you want any more gear make sure you come back with all the money for those two and then some got it? He nodded and i showed him the door. He made his way down the worn carpeted steps while the yellow hallway lights magnified the spring that had been taken out of his step. 

It was a tough situation. Billy Goat did move tons of shit but Billy Goat was a fucking moron when it came to certain things. I'd met his girlfriend and he was clearly batting above his weight, i'm sure the main attraction was the fact he was a "dealer" who had disposable cash. His girl had also been most friendly every time she met me and the one time i had to go to his place to drop off some gear and pick up money it wasn't lost on me that she considered me an upgrade. Sitting at her old kitchen table, a metal-legged antique straight outta my grandmother's basement, she sat in her shorts and t-shirt chatting me up and smiling the whole time... i understood the vibe and no i'm not some narcissist i just had honed my skills when it came to dealing with people, i could read them, i also understood that certain women liked guys in my line of work, it made us more attractive and i was not some short, round, ridiculously bearded, bucket hat wearing muppet with toenails that were a universe unto themselves. Who knows what she told the Billy Goat on meeting me but it seemed to cause him a bit of bother. Good. 

Had this most recent episode been the first of the Billy Goat's visits where he was "just a little short", it wouldn't have been much of a problem. The facts were this was now a regular occurrence every time he stepped into my apartment and his debt kept growing. There was part of me that thought of broaching the subject of interest on his debt seeing that most of the time my money was being used to pay for his lifestyle. There were car repairs, the aforementioned rent, a road trip to see some hippie bands and of course the usual non-sense of him having to track down the stragglers who owed him for weed... the excuses were vast and varied and hung in the air like a stale fart each time he bleated one out. But he did move gear... there was no denying that but when i'm waiting for my cut to come in, my profit, it doesn't do me any good how much he moves, he didn't seem all that worried about my cash just so long as he got his and that was beginning to really piss me off. I was about to grab him by his fucking beard and explain that i get paid first before he goes all Richie Rich with whatever lame-brained scam he's conjured up.... and his most asinine idea was yet to come... 



1 comment:

looby said...

Ha ha... I like your description of a stereotypical weed dealer with toenails "a universe unto themselves" :)

Hmmm... well a tricky one, but I'm sure you;'ll be able to resolve it. And oh look, what a surprise, there's a pretty woman in a t-shirt and shorts in the place again! :)