Two hours ago, I hear a knock at the door. "Come in"... no answer. I open it to see two middle aged men asking me questions about my moped. Told me he had it, bought it from someone, found out it was stolen and wanted to actually buy it from me. I told him it wasn't for sale and he wanted to get his money back.
Drove with him in his truck 5 blocks away, loaded it up and eventually was hailed by some other dude. He said he "just bought it" too and looked me in the eyes as if he was about to explode. The man who connected the dots for me said "it was some mexican gang shit" and "I'm lucky"
Well I don't know nothing about organized crime round here and I sure as hell feel lucky... sketched out... but lucky none the less.
Its back. Wild and unreal to think so, but its back.
Just like a woman, as soon as you forget about her completely, somehow she knows, and comes crrraaawling back... Now I get to ride her again!