There were eight people, in total, regarding him with suspicion. They were all behaving relatively normal, except for a dude, at the far right, whose left eye kept twitching.
"Do you want the product?"
Gulping, Chima nodded.
It was 9pm on a hot Wednesday night and the streets looked pretty deserted. Internally, he cussed Ayo for introducing him to this, and cussed himself for lacking the will to be patient.
What was that saying about dogs and fat bones?
This was, by far, the riskiest thing he'd ever done. Granted, his life wasn't exactly the plot from "The Godfather". In fact, someone had once referred to him as the whitest black guy he'd ever met. A slight exaggeration, if he had ever heard one. So what if he enjoyed the occasional episode of the Gilmore girls?
"Spider, go bring am."
Spider, the gentleman with the twitchy eye, regarded him for a bit before leaving.
The silence following his departure reminded Chima of a prostate exam. Uncomfortable, at first, but not that bad, after a while.
"So," he began. "I was told it would last for a lot less time, than usual."
The leader nodded.
Just then, Spider returned.
"Mr. Chima, do you have the money?"
Chima nodded and handed it over. After confirming the amount was what had been earlier agreed upon, the leader handed the product to him.
Clearing his throat,Chima said, "You should know that this is my first time. I was quite desperate, you see."
Wiping his palm on his jeans, he chuckled nervously. "I'm quite anxious, actually."
At this, the leader sighed. "Mr. Man, it's black market fuel, not drugs. Relax."
Turning to his guys, he said. "Let's go. And, Spider? Could you tell Ayo to stop sending over weird customers? The money is, frankly, not worth it."
Much love,
Vicki. ❤
