YaYa’s Flam Broiled Chicken. It’s not good. There’s never anybody in the parking lot. But you’re telling me they could move to a bigger location? One that’s a converted bank?? Banks have vaults. For all the laundered money.

Every mattress store you’ve ever seen is likely a front for some shady shit.

Nah they make good steak and shrimp and they don’t bother me so Ima leave them alone. There are much bigger criminals to worry about in this country than shady local businesses.

There used to be a coffee shop in my town. Every day they had a two-part secret phrase that would let you get drugs, but it sounded like an order. I think I activated it one time. “Can I please get a double-double with whip cream?” “Sure. How’s your dog Mittens?” “I have no dog?!” Later, the coffee shop shut down because they got caught drug trafficking. They would double cup the coffee orders that had the drugs, and put the drugs in between the paper cups.

Back in the early 2000s, when malls were still frequented, there was a tea shop down a dark wing that was rarely visited. I was on a tea bender and visited often, it was always empty. The man who ran the shop was very friendly. He was so friendly that he never failed to overstuff the tea I bought, give me a free hot tea, my choice, even the very expensive tea, on the spot, and heavily discount the tea I did pay for. I recommended him to friends and family, who reported the same experience. Empty shop, free and discounted tea, very friendly.

After a while, he opened up a little. He was from Iran. He had to leave very quickly, but he missed his home country. When asked why he left, he would dodge the question. People I sent to visit also reported his question dodging. He hesitated to say much about Iran beyond its ancient (and very cool) history.

I do not think he was laundering money, but he wasn’t there to make money. My guess is that he was whisked away by the US Government/CIA and given a new home in a quiet town where he could finally relax and just sell tea.

A few times, his older son was in the shop and was always visibly frustrated or bored, and he expressed a strong desire to “go home” back to Iran. The tea shop man tried to hide the seriousness in his tone when asking his son to be quiet. On occasion, his wife was there. She was friendly enough when speaking to you but always had a wary look on her face when you walked into the shop, looking right at your face for the first few seconds. I know that look personally. She was looking for danger in a face.

Even after the mall’s soul died and the anchor stores left, the little friendly tea shop in the dark, empty wing stayed.

That family was not there to make money selling tea. Very, very good tea, might I add. Such a friendly man. I hope they found peace.