Shortly after I turned 23, I found myself in LA where I met this stoner called Greg, this highly intelligent dude who had more degrees than your average rocket scientist. He was initially from South Africa, and had come to surf the Californian surf and decided to stay. He was quite handy with a guitar too and after a motorbike accident left him unable to surf properely he made his money by gigging at bars and pubs.
I often asked him why he didn’t pursue a career as a lawyer or something in computers but Greg’s only answer was that “the corporate world is evil maaan” and would rant that the corporate world is the center of capitalism and how it should topple because the average man suffers and so on. Highly passionate about it too, so I stopped asking. His arguments made my head hurt.
We often toked a joint together before or after his gigs and one night out of the blue he asked if I knew anything about growing hydroponics. Not that I even knew what he was talking about. To me, weed was weed.
He went off on this tangent about how hydroponics was the absolute shit and it cost a fortune which is why he wanted to rather grow his own. So my business brain kicked in and I forked out some cash so Greg could set up his grow house.
Within a few months we had a rich crop of probably the best weed I have ever smoked.
This shit was like smoking serious acid, 1 tiny bud was all it took to get you and 2 or 3 friends off your faces.
Soon word got around that Greg had the best weed in town and by the end of that year, Greg and I were coining it, we had come into the green so to speak.
We were making close on $25 000 each a month at the height of our game.
Being the smart bloke that he was, Greg suggested that we stop being greedy and shut down the operation or move it to another state and start fresh. Fact of the matter is that we could become very rich, or we could become very long time cell mates. The risk of getting caught was starting to increase , we had a massive client base and people from neighboring states were coming down to LA to come and buy Greg’s stuff. It was about to go out of control.
I wasn’t keen on moving because I had met this gorgeous young filly and I wanted to see what was going to happen with her.
After much deliberation, it was decided that we would dissolve our partnership and Greg would move on.
Since then I have seen Greg a few times, still looks the same, except his beard is a lot longer and his guitar is always something shiny and new. Never in one place for more than a year, Greg moved his operation from state to state.
Last I heard Greg was occupying himself playing gigs for free. Business must be good.
I, on the other hand, had started investigating the cocaine market.
I was about to make my first million.
