The drug dealer shows up mid morning. I figure he is the local dealer because he is carrying a fanny pack and a little attache case. No one here carries a fanny pack and an attache case. Plus the local stoner runs over to him and they go into a little huddle. What impresses me about Mr. Pusher is not his gold teeth or good chain but the tee shirt with a grinning skull that says: SMOKE TILL DEATH. He shows me a one ounce baggy of very strong smelling grass. 1000 cordobas. $44. I ask him to let me take a photo of him but he declines.
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