When I awoke the following day I felt one of those lightbulb moments when I thought of a better compromise with Duke. Since they didn’t want to give me 100 grams a month and I had been stoked to be the grower of the bud for the place, I thought it might satisfy all if I would grow my own. I told Duke that if he would buy me the equipment to grow my own then they would not have to give me any weed, only the 500 euros per month. He thought about it for a minute and said he thought that could work and within the hour we were on our way to a grow shop in Malaga. I got a grow tent, a 600 watt bulb, 2 fans and some soil. Adam was a seed distributor so finding good strains to grow was not a problem and he sorted me out with some of his best. I set it all up down in my apartment hoping to have a monster grow. I was starting to become a little concerned with a mold problem in my apartment. I don’t know if it was because it was directly below the pool or that the weather was getting wetter but each morning when I awoke there would be a dark film of mold that had grown overnight on the ceiling. At first it didn’t seem that bad and I would use bleach and water to wipe it away but soon it seemed that the mold was winning the battle as it was getting thicker with each night. After Duke and Lena finally left I waited a couple of weeks in the apartment hoping that I coul get the mold problem under control but one day I decided that it was silly for me to be living in the apartment when a 5 bedroom villa was just upstairs so I packed up my stuff and moved up to the main house. At first I thought about taking one of the guest bedrooms but then I thought I might as well live like a king while I can so I loaded my things into the master bedroom. The room was huge, the biggest I had ever slept in. I put the grow tent next to the closet and had enough room for another one if I wanted. Afer a few days up in the big house I went down to the apartment to check on the mold problem, it was everywhere! it looked like something out of a horror movie as the mold had grown to encompass the entire apartment. I was freaked out and got the hell out of there never to return, as far as I was concerned the mold could have the place. I was not willing to risk my health or the health of Miss Kitty by living in that hole and all of my previous efforts to clean it had been futile.
Once I settled into the big house life was grand. I had the house to myself but had to deal with Adam hanging around non-stop. I wanted to tell him to go home but thought he might be useful down the road so I let him stay. Stu would also stop by on a daily basis however his visits were much more welcome. He started buying more and more weed off of me and even introduced 2 of his friends from the neighborhood. Brian was from Ireland and was a cool dude with a wife and newborn but still loved to smoke the ganja. Gez was an English guy who owned his own restaurant down in the city and also loved the ganja. Soon I had a regular stream of folks coming around to buy weed or just enjoy the comforts of the villa while we smoked up and it was awesome. I was selling around 200 grams a week and was starting to make some good money for my efforts. My bankroll was growing nicely and so were the plants in my tent, they were starting to bud out and the smell was divine. Life was as good as I had ever known and I was loving it, My days were spent playing video games, surfing the web, playing pool and smoking some of the best ganja I had ever had. December came and still there were no bookings for the place, I started to wonder how long I would be able to stay here without any customers. I hadn’t heard anything from my bosses back in Amsterdam, not even an e-mail, I knew they were still feeling burned by the way things had ended but as long as they had the place, I was going to stay.
One Friday evening Gez came over and asks me if I could help out and play pool with his team that night. I had previously told him that I was glad to not be playing in a league for once as I had been playing every year since coming to Europe. He assured me that it would only be for the night and that I would get a free meal and all the free beer I could drink, an offer that was hard to refuse. The league they played in was mostly ex-pats from Britain and Ireland so the game was 8-ball but with only reds and yellows with a black ball. The rules were quite a bit different from what I was used to but sinking balls was sinking balls no matter what the rules. My first game I won the break and proceeded to break and run out the table. shortly thereafter the captain of the team comes over with 2 fresh beers and sits down next to me. He gives me one and asks what I am doing om Friday nights for the next couple of months? I knew what he was getting at as he wanted me to play full-time with the team and the competitive spirit in me rose up and said yes, besides it would be good to have a night out drinking with some cool folks. While I was sitting watching the match I heard the very familiar sound of dutch being spoken, I turned to see that the bartender was speaking Dutch to a customer. When they finished I went over to ask where he was from and almost fell off my stool when he said that he was from Amsterdam. Him and his wife had lived their whole lives in the Dam and had moved a couple of years back, after retiring. They bought the bar to cater to the ever-growing population of Dutch ex-pats that were moving to Spain after retiring. They were a very nice couple and I knew I had made the right decision to play pool for them, it was going to be a fun season.
Sometime around the middle of the month Brian’s brother Rod came over for a visit and this guy like to party! He was also the black sheep of his family and we hit it off straight away. He would come over to the villa with a pocket full of drugs and since I had nothing else to do, I would party like the old days. It was a crazy few weeks of drugs and alcohol topped off with a visit to the hooker bar. It looked just like any bar I had seen but with a couple dozen girls in bikini’s all around. The price of the beer was outrageous but that was to be expected and before I could turn around with my beer I felt someone grab my crotch. I turned to see a girl smiling at me and continuing to rub my junk. I talked with her for a minute and told her I would think about it. Once she left another was there in seconds, this was easy. All I had to do was sit there and wait for the girl I wanted to come to me. Once I chose the hottest one we went through a set of double doors to what looked like a hotel reception area, The girl said something to the person behind the desk and was given a room key. We then went to a set of elevators and went up 4 floors to a room, this was a very sophisticated operation. The experience was better than the hookers in Amsterdam but still left me feeling a bit unsatisfied, I had no regrets but would not be doing it again. As quickly as it had started, the partying came to an end with a final blow out on new year’s eve with Rod, Gez and myself as we snorted enough coke to kill an elephant but had a blast ringing in the new year. Rod left the next day back to Ireland and I once again retired from the hard partying and fell back into my usual routine of drinking beers and smoking weed.
A Continuing Story About Life On The Run