Satiricus was intrigued. He was trying to follow the debate on this ware”house” business and was surprised at how people didn’t get the point.
“And the point is, like Trottie said, the government had to find some space to store drugs urgently!” said Satiricus to his friend as they settled into their seats at the Back Street Bar.
The day was blistering hot and they smiled gratefully at the waitress as she brought over their beers, bathed in “sweat”.
“But if dem bin want fuh store drugs right away,” replied Cappo, as he took a long swig, “wha’ happen to all dem drugs now dat t’ree months pass?”
“They’re probably at the wharves in the containers that brought them in,” said Satiricus knowingly.
“But dem na guh spile in de hat sun?” Cappo wanted to know.
“Nah. They’re in refrigerated containers,” he pointed out with certitude.
“But ah who guh pay fuh all dem refrigerated containa an’ storage pan de w’arf and t’ing?” Cappo said with an innocent look.
“Well, the government didn’t know it would take so long to fix up a new warehouse,” confessed Satiricus.
“But wha mek dem na store de drugs in the GCC warehouse?” asked Cappo.
“Budday! You didn’t read the Stabber?” exclaimed Satiricus. “They said GCC jack-up the rental price from before.”
“Suh wha’ bin a de price befo’?” Cappo asked.
“Well, GCC wasn’t charging the government anything!” Satiricus conceded.
“Lemme see if me undastaan dis, since me na too bright,” said Cappo as he signalled for another beer. “How yuh does jack-up not’ing?”
“Well they wanted to keep on getting the storage for free,” conceded Satiricus,
“Sato me fr’en. Lemme tell yuh somet’ing,” said Cappo as he leaned over confidentially. “If de guvment now a buy drugs fram adda people an’ dem want GCC fuh store am fuh free, da na ‘jack-up’.”
“What is it?” Asked Satiricus.
“Da ah jack-ass!” smiled Cappo as he downed his beer in one long pull.
