Chapter 2: Poppy Diaz

Poppy---I knew that Mary Ann’s real estate company was on the verge of bankruptcy the day I walked in. How? I’ll explain that later. First let me talk about me and my business.

As you probably know I am James ‘Poppy’ Diaz. The Poppy came from my mother calling me her little Poppy. It stuck and I am still called Poppy forty years later.

As a kid I was bigger than most. I liked sports and football became my favorite. I excelled in high school and earned a scholarship to a university on the Gulf coast of Florida. My problems started when I was told that my mother was sick and needed an operation. She could not wait until I got a signing bonus. I let some asshole talk me into riding on a boat with him as he went to the ‘mother ship’. I helped him load 50 bales of ‘grass’ onto his boat and we sped off for a secluded inlet along Florida’s nature coast. That asshole forgot the extra gas can and we ran out of gas! The coast guard came to our rescue the next morning. I ended up doing 3 years of a five-year sentence at a Federal prison in West Texas. Momma died and I did not get to go to the funeral!

In prison my cellmate was a Mexican by the name of Ramon Lopez. We became good friends. Since that prison was about 60% Mexican, it was good to have a Mexican friend to watch my black ass.

We talked a lot. His family was in the import/export business in Mexico. They imported drugs from Colombia and exported them to the states. He suggested that I go into business with him when I got out. He would have to clear it with his uncle, Julio Lopez, the head of the cartel, but he was sure I could become one of his dealers. We were released the same month.

I moved back to Memphis, my hometown. I had no way of contacting Ramon Lopez but he had told me not to worry, he would contact me. Two months went by without a word. I was beginning to think it was just bullshit talk between two Federal inmates just to pass the time. Then one day my doorbell rang and there stood Ramon with two other men. We hugged and I invited them inside.

He asked if I was ready to start working for him.

“Hell yes! I can’t find a job anywhere and grandma is working as a maid. We barely have money for groceries.”

He handed me a wad of cash ($1,000) and took me to a Mexican restaurant. There, in a private room, we discussed business over a steaming plate of fajitas. When we were finished, I offered to pay the check.

“I own this place, Poppy. Work hard and invest your money in legitimate businesses. That’s the way to get ahead in this world.”

I did work hard. I followed his business plan exactly as he laid it out. We were a cash and carry business, modeled after McDonald’s. You drive up and place your order and pay the man who took it. Move a little further down the street and pick up your order. Business was good and getting better. A recession hit and people did not have money for their rent, but they always found the money to pay me to take their mind off all their troubles. Then just as things were getting better the pandemic struck the country. People sat at home and used their government checks to pay me to make them feel good again. Grandma died and I was able to give her a big funeral. I was living in a luxury condo and counting my money. Life was good!

One day one of my ‘order fillers’ was picked up by the cops. I could feel the fear that ran thru my organization. Just like McDonald employees, he had insurance. I paid for his attorney. He kept his mouth shut and he pled down to a year in county. His mother never missed a rent payment or went hungry. I made sure of it. I also made sure every one of my boys knew what I had done for his family. That builds loyalty.

But this is the drug business, when you are successful everybody and their momma knows about you. One night another ‘crew’ moved in on one of my primo corners. I called Ramon. Two nights later there was a drive by on that corner and the two ‘brothers’ selling drugs out of the back of their car were killed. At the same time there was a fire at the house where their gang was known to hang out. Four members were burned alive and three were never going to get out of the hospital. My boys went back to that corner the next day.

Six months ago, the unthinkable happened. Some assholes tried to hit the stash house where I kept my money and the drugs. It was well guarded and when all was said and done a couple of my guys were dead but so were all the bad guys.

I moved my money to my condo and posted guards 24/7. I was trying to determine what to do with the 15 million I had hidden in my spare bedroom when one of my boys showed up with this 19-year-old blonde college student. She wanted to talk to me about becoming one of my ‘salesmen’. She was in a sorority and lots of her friends loved to get high and party. She wanted me to front her the drugs. After I let her have a taste of a drug we were marketing as a ‘new and better’ form of ecstasy, she woke up the next morning in my bed.

“I’m sure I can sell this along with the coke. I’ll get top prices.”

I looked into those blue eyes of hers and asked why she did not buy what she could afford and sell it to her friends.

“Start small and grow into it,” I suggested.

“I don’t have time to start small. I attend Ole Miss, so I have to pay out of state tuition, and it is due in two weeks. I also need the dorm fees, money for food and books...”

“Your parents can’t help?” I questioned.

“No. Momma’s real estate company is about to go bankrupt; my dad is dead and my stepdad will not help. I have to do this myself or quit school.”

I asked the name of the real estate company after I told her I would give her enough to sell so that she would not have to worry about her tuition money. She thanked me by offering me her tight 19-year-old ass. I accepted!

The next morning, I walked into her mother’s real estate office.

It looked like it was on the brink of shutting down. One lady sat at the receptionist desk. I asked to speak to Mary Ann. A pretty blonde woman about my age came out of an office and welcomed me. I could tell where her daughter got her looks. Momma looked like she could pass for her daughter’s big sister. The only difference was momma’s breasts. They are way bigger and obviously store bought. I like big, white tits!

I said I was interested in income producing property. She took out a book and was showing me pictures of this strip mall that was for sale. The owner had died and his heirs wanted to sell. Then she showed me pictures of three houses that the same man had owned. She said they were for sale also and were great rental properties.

She was leaning over my shoulder pointing out the amenities of the houses with a manicured nail. (Her daughter must use the same salon). I felt one of those big tits brush against my ear as she leaned forward.

“What would they all cost me? Cash money.”

“All three houses and the strip mall?”

I grinned and nodded as that big tit again brushed by my ear as she stood up.

She hurried back behind her desk, put on a pair of reading glasses, then started pounding on a calculator. She looked up over her glasses.

“Somewhere just under 11 million. All commissions included.”

“Let’s offer them 10 million, all cash at the time of closing.”

“Cash? Like a cashier’s check?”

“Cash, like Benjamins.”

She got up and went to her door and told her secretary to take the rest of the day off. She locked the front door of the building then came back into her office. There was a couch and chair with a coffee table off to one side. She sat on the couch and motioned for me to sit in the chair as she kicked off her high-heels and put her legs up on the couch. I could see the tops of her thigh-high stockings.

“We have to be very careful. No banks or mortgage companies can be involved in transactions like you are suggesting. I’ll look for properties that are privately owned with no mortgages. I think we should sit up a company to handle the purchase of these properties. It will be a real estate management company that will handle everything from renting, to collecting the rents, and maintenance.”