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Summer was in full effect. The country boys were deep in their next harvest, and I was stacking money like never before.

I was 20 years old, turning 21, and for the first time in my life, I felt ahead.

No more struggling to eat.
No more counting dollars at the gas pump.
No more holding my breath every time my busted car hit a pothole, praying it wouldn’t break down.

For the first time, money wasn’t a source of stress.

But having money without understanding how it works—that’s a trap.

Nobody in lower-income communities teaches you how to manage wealth. Money is just survival. It comes, it goes. You work your ass for it, save what you can, and buy things that aren't necessary just to show you can.   

I was redneck rich—cash-heavy, no strategy, just living in the moment.

The outdoor bud from the country boys was completely gone for the season. That meant margins shrank, but the variety expanded.

This is when I started buying bigger amounts of what we called “Crunch Weed.”

Brick weed. Straight from Mexico. If you knew where to source it—across the Arizona border—you could get some premium high-end brick weed, not the bottom-shelf, dried-out trash most people thought it was.

I wasn’t moving enough weight yet to buy it at true wholesale market prices, but I knew that time was coming.

I could feel the shift happening.

With money flowing, I moved into another basement apartment—this time in a converted three-unit house.

It had two bedrooms.

One of them? I turned into a grow room.

The other had something better—an access point hidden behind the wall. If I removed part of the wall, I could get underneath the front porch of the house.

That became my stash spot.

At any given time, I had:
At least 10 pounds stashed there.
Two different types of "dro" (our way of saying Top Shelf Exotic).
Stacks of Crunch Weed, waiting to be flipped.

Yes, I know what you're thinking—“Why the fuck would you keep all that where you live?”

But to me? It was just weed.

The idea of stash houses, separating my business from my home, moving differently—that was coming.

But right now?

I was just living.

Flip. Reinvest. Flip. Reinvest.