To the editor:
Believe it or not, I’ve never had any transactions with black market dealers before. When I became desperate for the latest “hot commodity,” a friend of a friend told me to go to a particular church at precisely 10 minutes after midnight and talk to the guy in a black BMW parked at the far end of the lot.
For the rest of the day, I was both apprehensive and excited.
When the time came, I followed my instructions.
As I approached the BMW, the driver powered-down his black-tinted window a few inches and said menacingly, “Yea, whaddya want?”
As instructed I held out two $20 bills and said, “Rudolf the red-nosed reindeer owes you 40 bucks.”
The driver snatched the money from my hand, inspected each bill and handed me a piece of paper with an address and a weird symbol on it. Then curtly said, “Get lost.”
I glanced around guiltily before scurrying back to my car.
A red SUV was slowly pulling into the parking lot as I drove away.
To make a long story short, I went to the address, knocked on the door, handed the scrap of paper to a grey-haired man in a business suit and got my illicit property: a 12-roll package of Cottonelle Ultra Comfort toilet paper. Boy oh boy, was I relieved!