"All this money and you still have the fashion sense of a 1970's grandma."

I round the table and take a seat across from him.

He just scowls at me, sighing deeply and finishing his glass.

I chew on my gum with a grin, raising my hand to the waitress to order something to drink.

"Let’s skip the pleasantries, shall we? You and I both know we’re not here for small talk.” he says coldly, taking a drag from his cigarette.

"That wasn't a joke. Your taste in clothes sucks, buddy."

I lean in and snatch the cigarette from his hand, allowing myself a long drag before handing it back to him.

"At least I don't wear turtle necks," he finally replies.

I throw my head back and laugh, adjusting my black turtle neck. "Ouch!"

"How much do you want?" he checks his watch before talking again, not wasting more time and heading straight for the real talk.

"Twenty grams," I reply.

"3000$."

I nearly choke on my whiskey. "I said I need a few grams, not the whole merch."

"It's the best you could find in the city. You already know that since you blew up my phone with calls for over a week," he adjusts his sunglasses up his nose.

The only modern item he's wearing.

Sighing heavily and crossing my arms, I answer. "Fine, when can you deliver it?"

"Tonight," he finishes his cigarette and crushes the butt in the ashtray, preparing to leave. "We'll meet at Midnight under the Volkey bridge. Be there in time."

"Alright, see you there, buddy,"

He stands, not giving me another word as he turns to leave. "And for god's sake don't wear this sparkly neon green blouse tonight, don't want the bugman to think you're a glowing butterfly." I call out.

"At least my blouse is getting more attention than your whole existence." he calls back, concluding his words with a middle finger.