The Bootlegger
Copyright© 2019 by MysteryWriter
Chapter 29
I looked up as the younger man approached. “I can’t believe I paid almost two grand to freeze my ass off.” he said raising his voice to be heard over the angry ocean.
“It’s summertime for gods sake,” I replied.
“Ty, anytime there is ice floating in the water, it is not summer,” he said.
“Granted, we are north of the official arctic,” I agreed. “The occupants of this ship are the heartiest of the cruise customers.”
“So what? These are the ones who jog around the decks,” he asked.
“Well there is this cool blond who jogs in the morning. You wouldn’t know about her. You and the new wife are still doing the dirty at 6AM.” I suggested.
“No, we are still sleeping, you should try it,” Mike suggested.
“You mean that thing where you close your eyes and shut down for long periods of time?” I asked.
“That’s it. It keeps you from going insane,” Mike said.
“That’s an old wives tale. Oh yes you would believe in that farce, since you have to listen to your old wife,” I said.
“I will be happy to get back to the world and work in the dirt again,” Michael said.
“I think we will be working in someone else’s dirt,” I admitted. “From all reports the Medical Marijuana farms are going great guns.”
“What happened to selling a couple of bucks cheaper and still make the same money,” Mike asked.
“Well, at what point do we just close up and hand it over to the straight Johns of this business?” I asked.
“Do you have stock in one of the growers?” he asked.
“I looked both directions before I answered. Our shell company in the Caribbean has a new motto,” I informed him.
“Well spill it,” he said.
“This is actually sung by a sexy chick, but here goes. ‘No stems, no seed that you don’t need, Carolina Gold’s a bad ass weed’.” I sang in my not so sexy voice.
Mike laughed. “How much did you buy?”