I found myself in the possession of some expensive jewelry, and I needed to move it as quickly as possible. I knew a cat in town with the resources to help me out, so I got in contact with him. He suggested discussing our business over a little bowling. I was game.
I became a tad suspicious when I saw that he had his own shoes, ball, and glove. I was even more so when he pumped his fist after an opening strike.
I, of course, went for my requisite 69, and that's when it hit me: he doesn't find that amusing. I gave him some cash for the beer, and hit the road. One of my personal rules is that I never trust a person who takes bowling too seriously.
And again, my personal rules were vindicated. The fence was wired. Word got back to me that the cat was hot, and had I discussed the terms of our deal, I would've been arrested by the FBI. It's these kinds of Street Smarts that have kept me alive for so long. Holla'.
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