All Dwight had told Mongo was that he'd be in Seattle for one night and then gave him the address and room number. It turned out to be swank suite right next to Pike's place market. It was late, after ten when we knocked on his door. We smelled pot from the elevator.
"BROSEPHS!"
The weed wasn't a surprise but I almost didn't recognize hime when he opened the door. Dwight stood arms out, at least thrity pounds heavier. He was wearing two pieces of a really nice dark grey suit, loosened tie and 80s physics teacher glasses. He also had a Ted Koppel hair do and a mustache.
"What the fuck,"asked Mongo.
"Oh, this? It's the new me," Dwight heared us into the horribly tasteful suite living room, complete with plasma TV, overstuffed furniture and really shitty art.
Dwight gave us hugs and we just sort of stood there. I spotted a twinkley ferry headed toward Bainbridge.
"Dudes, sit," he procalimed.
Dwight sparked up a joint and passed it Mongo who passed it right to me. It took a big ole hit.
"Before you guys say anything I just want to tell you that all this is for a good reason."
Dwight got up and grabbed a what looked like a mesozoic bottle of Scotch from the bedroom he poured Mongo a glass. Mongo downed it, solid. Dwight refilled it promptly.
"This is good," said Mongo.
"I know."
I took another hit of the tasty weed and handed the j back to Dwight. He hit it again.
"You should know there's hash in this," Dwight smiled.
"I see."
I was already feeling heady. I was resisting the urge to sit on the floor and stretch. Dwight stood up and went to the window. He looked out over Elliott Bay.
"I got a job with LHH Trust. You've never heard of them but hey own a lot of things."
He was right. I'd never heard of LHH.