The Sixth Cent ©

Have you ever woken up in the morning and have an eerie feeling something is wrong?
It’s a feeling like your Spidey sense is tingling.
It’s like that feeling you get when you know you are not alone in a dark room.
You feel it in your soul.

I have felt it a number of times which probably the reason I never ended up spending most of my life in jail.
Some say it was common sense that saved my butt but I know better.
If something doesn’t feel right I bail out.

I remember one time a friend asked me to do him a favour for a nice chunk of change so I said sure why not.
I get to his place and he wants me to broker a deal for him with his girlfriend.
He can’t do it because there is some bad blood between him and the supplier’s source and if they bump into each other, who knows what will erupt.

No guns, just money, twenty grand to be exact not including the thousand I got upfront for going along with his girlfriend.
He said no gun but I had a dagger down the front of my pants I didn’t tell him about.
Bad guys don’t check you there it’s a gay phobia thing.

I drove to a nice part of town where they have some very old and expensive houses.
The place I was looking for was the last house on the street, secluded from the rest of the block by some tall hedges.
Parking the car we went up to the door and rang the doorbell.
The door opened a bit and I told the person in the darkness who I was there to see.
Opening the door some more we were ushered in and as I entered the foyer I scanned the surrounding area and could see someone in a washroom.

We were lead into the living room where there were two guys sitting around drinking and smoking a joint.
I knew one of them from around some of the haunts I frequented and I am sure he knew me.
Behind them was a curtained off area which I assumed was the kitchen and back there through the cracks I could see someone walking around back there.
All of a sudden I didn’t feel right.

One of them asked me what we wanted and before buddy’s girlfriend could say anything I jumped in and told him I was looking for some hash.
He asked how much and I told he that depended on how good it was and was willing to pick up a couple of hundred grams with the possibility of another en pounds if the people I was buying for like what they saw.
Buddy’s girlfriend gave me a strange look but she knew well enough to follow my lead.
We have a history and she knows how cautious I am.

The guy said OK and went into the back, behind the curtain and told someone to bring out two hundred grams pf hash and came back to his seat and offered us a beer.
I said no to the beer because I was driving and didn’t want the smell of it to get me searched if I got pulled over but I would take a drag off of the joint.
As I pulled back on the reefer the curtains opened and a guy walked through.
The first thing I noticed when the curtains were open was the shotgun propped up against the wall and the second was the guy.
A week earlier I got busted and was sitting in a cell when the police brought in a group of people who got busted importing drugs at the airport and this was the guy the had with the two stupid 105 pound skinny blondes wearing size 20 clothes with drugs duck taped to their bodies.
No ones that blind.

I recalled their bail hearing very well the next day because the judge threatened to charge me with contempt if I didn’t stop laughing while they were reading their charges and the evidence leading up to their arrest.
I’m sorry you had to see the women.
They were still wearing the size 20 joggies they got busted in and looked like two 400-pound women who had lost 300 over night and were now desperately trying to hold their skin up.

Here I was sitting in a strange environment, saddled with buddy’s girlfriend among armed men with a knife down my pants that I can’t get to unless I pretend my balls are itchy.
I was thinking they could just shoot us and take the twenty grand or hell they could just rob us, what could we do.
I was thinking, buy something small and leave the door open for them to trap us later to take a bigger chunk of change from us would be smarter.
Sort of laying the trap for us by us, only thing is there was NO FUCKEN WAY I WAS COMING BACK HERE!!!!!!!!!!

He passed me the two hundred grams and said 1200 dollars, but all I had was the thousand in my pocket and she was holding a bundle with 20Gs in it and I didn’t want her pulling that out here to give me 200.
So I told him I only had a thousand because we thought the price would have been less.
Great I thought, I was trying to get the fuck out of an armed situation and here I was negotiating price instead.

He said it was fine and to consider it the price of what we were going to buy later.
Yeah right, later.
I walked out that door and didn’t even want to look at that house from the rear view mirror.

So was it my sixth sense that warned me or was it the bits and pieces I had noticed and remembered and what does this have to do with how this post started?
Well that’s simple.
The other day when I woke up wrapped around my pillow, I got a strange feeling that something was wrong, something, out of place.
My eyes were open and my ears on high alert but I would hear nothing or see anything infront of me.
There was no smell in the air, so no fire.
Slowly I rolled over on my back and looked up and the ceiling, which used to be six feet above the top of the bed and was now hovering about two feet above my face.

I live in a 70 year old house and sometimes, modern devices and old homes have issues with each other, as was the case in question.
I have a ceiling fan above my bed and during the night the electric box the held the fan to the ceiling gave way because it wasn’t screwed to a joist but to those little ribs they have in old houses to hold the plaster.
The fan free fell towards my sleeping head and stopped only because one paranoid Walker had installed a cable from the fan to a joist next to the electric box.
I only wish I had made the cable a little fucken shorter.
The fan scared the shit out of me when I rolled over and stared up through its bony body to the tiny, barely visible cable that went all the way up to the ceiling and held this 20 pound projectile from coming down and crushing my skull.
So why am I still laying here trying to figure out how to write this down on my blog?

I spent the rest of the day taking apart the ceiling and installing a well secured electric box then installed a new fan with a SHORTer cable.

So, how’s your Sixth Sense?

Have a nice weekend

Walker