Page 14 of In Too Deep

“What the fuck you gone do with some cash, if you can’t do shit with it?”

“It’s this lil’ fine ass guard, she be fucking with me, buying me fast food and shit when I ask her.”

I dug in my pocket, fishing around my keys for some money. “And what you be in here doing for it?”

“Nigga, nothin!”

“Hmm Hmm, you ain’t get that hair on yo chin for nothin’. Let me find out you in here eatin’ on tangy ass pussy.” I passed him the money, giving him whatever I had on me.

“Yeah, between the both of us, if anybody knows anything ‘bout some tangy ass pussy, it’s you.”

I laughed. “Nigga fuck you!”

Leaving the visitation room, I staggered out of the school towards my car with the heat blazing down my back. I was here a little longer than I intended to be because I had my day mapped out already. Tuesdays are the days we receive our shipments for Telo Wireless. Tonight's anticipated high-volume inventory arrival necessitated a thorough operational readiness check.

“You sure that’s the right tracking number?” I questioned, Javon.

It was after hours, and I was in the back of the store counting inventory to make sure there weren’t any discrepancies with the count. I made sure we never ran low, and my connect in China expedited the shipping. It still had to go through tariffs, but the advantage of getting the trendy iPhones firsthand, meant more customers and more money. Apple advertised a new iOS software, built for newer devices, along with new colors; people were going crazy trying to get their hands on the devices. My plug hit me up the day after the advertisement, and I bit the bullet, paying a hefty fee to get it first before any other major cellular companies.

Usually, I’m here alone, tallying everything up, but Javon was doing over time, taking care of some quick iPad screenrepair. He’s the store manager who keeps a handful of shit underway, so I’d be cocky to take all the credit, without giving him a pat on the back, making him appear useless. Counting inventory was easy, but our difficult days acquired a tentative skill that a goofball ass nigga could easily fuck up. Javon is the one I trust aside from anyone else. While doing my part, he yelled from the front, telling me to check some shit out on my end regarding the shipping status.

“Log in to your account and double check it.”

I grabbed the MacBook and slid it closer to me. “Watch out.”

“Let me know if you see something different.”

“That’s what I’m about to find out. I don’t know what the fuck goin’ on.”

When my plug from China ships the loot, he gives me a tracking number. Although I have a FedEx Freight account, it’s easy to track shipments when I click on the link he sends me via email. That shit was dumb versus the common way—copying and pasting the tracking number into the website, but he says the website has common glitches, and it’s easier to click directly from the email for faster access. I knew Javon was no fool, but I wanted to see what the fuck was going on for myself.

A”202 UNKNOWN ERROR”appeared across the screen. My brows furrowed in confusion as I retracted back to my email after closing out the browser and clicking on the tracking number again. Nothing changed; the same error message popped up.

“What the fuck,” I muttered, becoming annoyed by the mishap.

Trying another way, I entered the tracking number exactly as it read in the email, and nothing popped up. This would make sense, but the other night, we saw an estimated delivery date. Thinking quick on my feet, I went back to another email from a prior shipment, and the delivery date was there.

“This shit ain’t adding up, mane.” He responded, taking the words out of my mouth.

Running my head across my waves, I released a deep sigh of frustration. The prior shipment showcased an estimated delivery date of today, but the issue was that the inventory had already been delivered. We had the boxes back there, still labeled with the tracking number we were viewing now. Something wasn’t right, and had it not been for the time difference in China, I’d call my plug to see what the fuck is going on with the current shipment. This shit was different.

In other instances, when there’s a delay in shipping, it’s due to the holidays or bad weather. I ain’t never had any shit happen like this to me before to cut out the culprit. This was some internal shit. Going off on my plug wouldn’t do me any good because once it’s shipped, it’s out of his hands and judging by this shit here, it’s out of my hands too.

“If shit gon’ go down like this, I might as well board my shit up myself and meet them niggas at the gate,” I mentioned, as I checked the time on my phone. “I’ll make a note to call customer service in the morning to see what’s up. Inventory is straight, and hopefully this shit is just a mix up with the freight.”

I closed the MacBook and trotted to the back so I could lock up the stock room. I made sure the cameras were turned on before yelling out for Javon to lock up after me so I could exit out of the back door.

“How long you plan on being here?”

“Not long. I got an iPhone screen to fix after that iPad, but that’s light work. I’ll hit you up when I leave.”

“Cool, stay safe nigga.” I dapped him up.

“Aite G.”

On the way home, I stopped by this top notch soul food restaurant. Honestly, after seeing that shit with my shipment, fucked up my appetite, but I had to put something on mystomach. I’d been on the move all day. The only thing I ate to put something on my stomach was a bowl of cereal and a muffin. When hiccups happen, that’s the only thing I think about, which means it’s easy for shit to fuck up my day. Also, a good night’s rest would be hard to come by. The thought of a nigga playing with money had me ready to murk a nigga, if that was the case. I go by a schedule, and if that’s steered in the wrong direction, my whole day is fucked up. Thinking ahead, when I first started looking into selling cellular phones, I didn’t want to go through a plug to get my shit, but being in the drug game for a while taught me that every dollar has a totem pole and in order to get to the top you have to shake hands with the boss and sit at the roundtable.

It would be more convenient to assemble a group of individuals, have them obtain their CDLs, and operate my vehicles. However, finding a reliable and trustworthy group is a challenge due to the difficulty of earning my trust. To guarantee prompt and unhindered receipts, I would personally obtain the shit myself. FedEx was prominent for having slip ups like this, but they were the only reliable source of transportation I could use for now.

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