In the beginning I was hanging out with a fancy rapper dude. Well, I don’t know if he was an actual rapper — he was on the surface a blinged-out black dude.  He basically cut me a check to pay for a QP of herb from the dealer, whom I was about to go see.  So I got to the dealer’s place with the check, and the dealer was a 30-something blond woman. She started packing a tin full of an extremely bright-purple colored strain which I had never seen before, they were like purple fuzzy nuggets — it wasn’t realistic; it was more like fruit.  I watched her put it together and I got a bit excited by the novelty of this herb and assumed it was extremely potent stuff. She finished and said $3100. So I was a bit confused, I told her my guy was thinking it would be more like $850 or thereabouts. She wasn’t bothered at all — I made sure they were on the same page about quantity, asked what she was selling it for, hoping to do some quick math to see if a quick calculation could get in the reasonable ballpark about where this difference was coming from.  She only said that she paid $0.12/oz for 4800 ounces of it.  That was interesting to me, basically making it free to her. I tried to relate a story about the price of an ounce in Oregon before herb became legal as something like $250 (from what I heard), I guess just to give her transparency about how my guy would formulate an expectation of a price for four ounces, with some kind of break for ordering in quantity, etc.  But she wasn’t wanting to chat; she wasn’t rude, just wanting to get on with other things, no patience for entertaining my attempts at accounting. She said “No big deal. We’ll get it settled later.” I asked for something in writing about what was exchanged for what, do have a record for my guy that they’d both agree to, but she was reluctant and said it’d just be on the invoice.

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