CHAPTER I

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I woke up with a fully stuffed, dutched blunt on the marble white counter top, next to a Dom Perignon mimosa, with a note that read, "Thanks for the trip Daddy. Love, Your Lil' Baby."

Amazing right? But that's how those doctor types are — always on the go, even when they have a full paid vacation in a luxury hotel suite, beachside in the Bahamas. As my 8:30 alarm sets off, sending Future's "Percocet & Stripper Joint" vibrating all through the suite, I hopped out of bed, picked up my Dutch and Dom Perignon mimosa, walked out onto the balcony and started taking in the weather. After I finished my blunt and drink, I dashed inside the suite and hopped in the shower for a bit. After I came out, I immediately got dressed. I decided to wear something more comfortable so I threw on my Ralph Lauren sweatsuit, some shell toe Adidas, and a nice little Rolex. The valet came and brought the whip around, a chrome black Audi A5 Coupe — rental of course. I'm on vacation but when I get back I might have to cop one o' these. I gently popped the top, drove around a bit just to feel that Bahama breeze, and stopped in to eat at 1648 Bar & Grille, one of the finest restaurants on the island. I grabbed a couple of sliders, garlic grilled shrimp, and their version of spicy chicken.

I know what you're thinking. What line of work is he in to afford such a luxurious vacation? Well let's just say I'm a very successful cannabis connoisseur of sorts. See the whole illegal selling of weed was never my thing but when more states made it legal to sell, well then the conversation begins to change. And that's how I got interested in the multi-billion dollar marijuana industry. After graduating from the University of Chicago with a Bachelor's degree in business administration, I immediately packed my things and headed out of the Windy City to sunny California where the medical marijuana business was really taking off. Using some of my savings, I rented out a room for 12 months, got in contact with some growers and shop owners, and learned the business more and more.

Then, at 22 years old I moved to Seattle, WA where weed was just announced as legal for recreational use. This was a major game changer for me. Using the knowledge and skill I gained from working in California's medical marijuana industry and applying it to Seattle's recreational marijuana industry was a pretty easy transition. It seemed like the money just kept rolling in by the hundreds. My investors were pretty happy to see a nice return on their investments. Plus, some free ounces kept them a little more than happy.

After a couple of passion fruit drinks at 1648 Bar & Grille, I was ready to pay my bill. But not before one of the beautiful waiters approached me with some well needed small talk. Her overly friendly demeanor quickly let me know she was interested so I gave her my number and told her to call me if she wanted dinner and cocktails, on me of course — it's only the gentlemanly thing to do since I might bring her back for the causal night cap later.

Even though I took the weekend off for vacation, it's still all work in the tropics. I headed over to the crib of one of my top strain hunters, a multi-million dollar hustler from Queens, NY. See the job of a strain hunter is very cool, but it requires a high level of knowledge when it comes to the different global climates that certain strains grow in. This means strain hunters get to travel all over the world looking for the most potent marijuana strains and their seeds, either to sell to buyers like me or cross breed plants to get a more potent hybrid mix. Pulling up to my strain hunter's crib in a remote part of the islands, I peeped a brand new 2016 Ashton Martin in the driveway — you know that new James Bond joint. I couldn't believe how long my boy's paper had gotten. I dipped out the whip, made my way to the beautiful crystal glass double doors, rang the hip-hop themed doorbell, and waited until this beautiful dark-skinned sister politely greeted and let me in. Walking past the two big white and gold sitting rooms into the massive sunk in living room, I saw my boy Ace chilling on his Milan-imported, black leather couch, just stuffing the money counter with hundred dollar US bills and fifty pound UK notes.

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