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Day Thirty-Seven (2).

Leonard came over after work to sell me some weed, not gay blowjobs— although I’m sure I could have swung one of those in there by the end of our unspectacular transaction. I called Leonard up a couple hours ago and he started to tell me about all the kinds of weed I can buy from him.

“I’ve got all the fatty purps,” he told me, “Afghan Kush, A.K., Alaskan Thunderfuck. Those are just the A’s, too”

“Indo-China Pussy Hash?”

“Tons of it,” he said, which was a little weird because I made that shit up, but I’m a sucker and was pretty much sold at that point.

“Bring some of that shit over,” I said. “Lets talk homework.”

So Leonard came over with a duffel back filled with all types of weed. It was a nice duffel bag and the weed wasn’t too bad either. But more about the duffel bag: it was an old one from my old high school.

“I didn’t know you went to Tesoro,” I said.

“I went for like half a year and then got expelled for selling pot out of this duffel bag.”

“And they let you keep the bag?”

“Sure did. It’s my lucky bag now.”

I don’t consider luck being expelled, but then again I don’t consider luck to be your first drug dealer not named Aaron either. “It’s the little victories, Leonard,” I said, “Good for you.”

Leonard wasn’t nearly as shifty as Aaron 4 but he is still a pretty shifty fuck. All drug dealers are shifty and I was actually hoping he would be on the lower scale of shifty by the end of the drug dealing. But, just as he was leaving, Leonard let something slip that I can’t let go. In fact, I may find another deal because of it:

“Later Leo,” I said as he left Apartment J. “That was a good drug deal,” I said, giving him a low-five.

“Yeah man, no worries,” he said.

“See you at work on Monday— just don’t bring that red duffel bag around.” It was a joke. But he stopped walking at looked at his slung duffel.

“Oh, it’s red?” he asked.

“School colors, broseph,” I said.

“I’m color blind,” he said. And like, be color blind all you want but the bag says “Titan Red” on the fucking side. Holy shit.

“Really?” I feigned, “That’s funny, Leonard.”

Leonard chucked, “I’m not joking though. It sucks.” And off he went. Honestly, I don’t know how I felt hearing Leonard was colorblind; he just spent so much time telling me how the Jamaican Pig-Fuck I bought from him had all the “fatty purps”. That bothered me. But it was the last thing he called out to me from downstairs that really got my goat.

“Hey, if you need a blowjob, give me a call after eleven but before three.”

“What?”

“I’ll blow you til your dick is red.”

I gave him Todd’s number.

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