Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Going gangsta in suburbia

So I got my bowling pins today. Four boxes of ten.

It was kind of like a suburban mom drug deal. I met her at the Target parking lot. She told me she would be driving a white Lincoln Navigator.

She was easy to spot.

So I drove up right behind her. She was sitting in her car, and the transaction was completed in moments.

We loaded four boxes that contained ten bowling pins in each box into my car. I slipped her two Jacksons, and the deal was done.

Just like a good dealer, I'd done my homework. I'll need a few of the pins for myself, and I'd researched the market.

 I can sell the pins for about $15 each.

I call that profit.

And the best part is, she has 16 more cases at home, in her garage that houses her Lincoln Navigator. To her, she's unloading something that's taking up space. To me, I'm going to turn a profit, and I've got a supply of crafty product that is seemingly unending.


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