Mikey The Marijuana Mogul

 

I have a brief recollection of dreaming last night. I was somewhere in the hill country, similar to where I live, but the terrain was a little steeper. I had only one purpose, one goal, and that was to meet Mikey, the Marijuana Mogul. Mikey was an importer of some of the cheapest weed in the area. For a few dollars, one could buy sleeping bag sized quantities of Mexican pot. 

I found Mikey at home, outside laying out some of the huge baggies for sale in the dirt of his driveway. I told him I'd take three, although I didn't know how I was going to carry them. I opened up one of the cadaver-sized Ziplocs to inspect the contents.

The first bag looked pretty good, for Mikey quality. Of course, he'd always put a few fresh trimmed buds on the top. By the time you got past the first layer it was brown all the way down. By the bottom of the bag, it was actual dirt, a silty, sandy mystery powder that would crackle and fizzle like gunpowder when you smoked it. One tried not to get down that far before ditching the bag and reordering.

I don't remember much more about the dream, except that the Mikey character was analogous to a dealer that my uncle used to use in Chico back in the early '90s. His name was David, and he lived in an old church building. I was never cool enough for my uncle to introduce me, until one day he finally gave in and brought me with him. After that, mysteriously, he got out of the business, and my uncle and I had to shop elsewhere.