Lake Mariposa Part Thirteen

“Well, I got some good blotter acid that should help you get there,” said Gypsy.

“How much?”

“For you, my brother, ten bucks.”

Gypsy went into his satchel and pulled out a large manilla envelope. He then took a sheet of white blotter paper that had been divided into little squares. In the center of each square was a transparent liquified spot. As the white tank top dude passed over a crumpled ten dollar bill Gypsy cut out a square and handed it to his first customer of the afternoon.

“Thanks, man,” said White Tank Top Dude as he put the little square in his mouth.

“It was a pleasure doing business with you. Enjoy the festival.”

After only a few minutes four new customers came up to Gypsy's make shift kiosk. They bought some weed, hash and mescaline.

“How much longer are you going to be here Gypsy?” asked Misty.

“Oh, for about another twenty minutes. I'll see how sales go,” replied Gypsy.

“I'm not going to stand here all afternoon. I intend to have some pleasure along with my business. I'm not one of these greedy pseudo freak capitalists. I just sell enough dope to get by. I might come back here after Chopping Block finishes their set. I'll see how it goes,” Gypsy explained.

Gypsy and Misty then starting walking towards the main stage area. As they were about twenty minutes away Gypsy and Misty had a little time to get to know one another.

“How old are you, Gypsy?” Misty asked.

“I'm twenty three, my dear, a little older than you I imagine.” answered her companion.

“Are you from Winnipeg?”

“No, I'm originally from Berkeley, California but I've spent most of this year just traveling across the States and Canada.”

“So what brought you to Winnipeg this summer,” Misty asked.

“I came up to visit my sister. She has terminal cancer and the doctors aren't sure how much time she has left. I wanted to see her in case she doesn't last the summer,” Gypsy explained.

“Wow, man, I'm sorry,” said Misty quickly looking at the ground.