High Priest Runs Out of Weed
"Oh High One, I am once again humbled to be kneeling before thee, as the glory of thy words has so often rewarded me in the past, but Rico says he can't trade weed for your wise words anymore. Rico has listened to your wisdom, and has seen what a bargain you had offered, but verily thy words are not trading well in the streets these days, your High-ness, and Rico sends his heartfelt apology. He's going to need cash this time, or no weed for you."
The wise one was usually slow to answer, as his words were always carefully chosen for his chela, but this day-- the day that Rico cut him off, it was as if he had known before I arrived what news I would bring, and having anticipated my message, the High Priest had prepared a question for me. With cold empty pipe in hand, he had closed his eyes as he often did when speaking, and after taking a deep breath, had uttered the following words:
Did you check with Carl? The weed's never as good as Rico's, but man I'm flat broke, having only just paid rent here on the temple. Wouldst thou mind calling on Carl?"
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"O High One," I began, which elicited a smirk from the Master, "What valuable words would you have me trade with Carl?"
Again he was quick with his words, and I prepared myself to memorize a parable or meaningful utterance, but this time the Master phrased a question, tho perhaps less profound and heavy than his usual riddles and lessons. He spoke, and I easily captured the meaning, being a long-time listener with good ears. His question for Carl was short and most direct:
"Got a joint?"
Verily I wondered if the Master had his priorities straight, and I supposed that a break from the sacred plant might do his High-ness some good, but being a devoted student and a committed purveyor of the wise words that he spouted, I headed over to Carl's to see if I could at least score a joint for my dear teacher.
These were the days when I felt like a good student, and there was joy in my step as I went, knowing that his High-ness would want to get me stoned when I returned. I was learning the ways of the Master, and my path was sure; Carl lived about a mile away, down in the Tire Shop district. It was a journey that would benefit all involved, and like a hobbit through Mordor, I did make the trek successfully.
Unfortunately, Carl wasn't home. Verily, this sucked.
tanks as always for reading along, up-vote as hard as you can, follow and comment, etc. I do appreciate the attention and the rewards. @therealpaul
Carl was home. He doesn't answer the door unless you call in advance. They didn't tell you?
I thought I saw some movement through the peephole. That Carl was standing right there watching me sweat. No nobody tells me anything. I called Master and he was "fine, I have liquor and I know how to use it."
Yeah, he sure likes that new peephole. Next time, just call. If he doesn't answer, that means head on over. I'm sure this method won't lead to any confusion.
I fell for that, once. He's "c'mon over" and I get there, door locked, everything locked except that window above the back porch. Well not that I climbed that maple to get up on the porch or anything, it just, those kinds of windows are never locked in the movies.
Be wary of the soft spot up there. I'm not sure how that hole got there, I just know it's there. I'm certain the next one to make that mistake will be finding their way inside the hard way.
Verily, that would suck. There is nothing more suck-inspiring than being deprived of some rolled up happiness, takes the bounce right out one's step.
It'll do master some good to take a little break I suppose.