My Adventures In The Drug Business

Last night I joined the drug trade.

…in my dreams. I’ve been watching Better Call Saul, and I guess it’s dripping into my subconscious.

As the dream starts, I’m sitting in a movie theater, watching Movie (title, stars, and plot are not filled in, because this is just a setting). I’m sitting in the front row for some reason, probably to allow for the dramatic staging of the coming confrontation. The Drug Man steps in front of me, obscuring the screen.

I am a stupid newbie who thought he was doing one job, and then getting out. But no, says Drug Man, once you’re in the business, there’s no getting out. He tosses a packet of “drug seeds” into my lap, and tells me I owe him $10,000 for them. He expects the money right now, or else something terrible will happen to me, and possibly everyone else in the theater. The threat is clear in its severity, but not in its details.

I talk Drug Man down from theatricide, and promise I’ll get him the money by the end of the day. I hurry over to the bank and say I want to withdraw $10,000. The teller (who is sitting behind bulletproof glass, unlike any bank I’ve ever seen in real life) asks me what I’m offering her to make this very suspicious transfer go through.

At this point, I waver between a few options:

1. Maybe this is all a bluff, to see if I act suspicious. Instead, act outraged and demand to speak to the manager. My money is my own and I can do what I want!

2. It’s no big deal, I’m just buying a used car from someone. (This seems like a bad idea, like it will be correlated with car registration somewhere down the line and I’ll be found out.)

3. Become visibly embarrassed and tell her in confidence that I’m buying a customized robotic sex doll, and don’t want it to show up in my history.

I wake up before I settle on an approach. Curious, I start searching for information on this. It’s weird that the bank teller would immediately jump to blackmail (what kind of dire straits is she in, I wonder), but could the bank stop me from withdrawing that money?

It turns out, $10,000 is exactly the cutoff point at which a bank has to report withdrawals to the IRS, and would require an explanation for the withdrawal. So now I’m wondering how my dreaming mind knew this fact, while my awake mind did not.

Also, $10,000 could apparently be a feasible amount for a robot sex doll, with enough upgrades and customizing. I’m really concerned about how I knew that.

This entry was posted in Humor, Stories and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s