I Was a Car Dealer, Not a Used Car Dealer.

Jib offered to pay him 300 pounds to pick up a car for him. Only trouble was that he bought the car from a bloke and Bristol, so that meant getting the train down there so I could drive it back. After a couple of runs, he let me in on the little secret. The cars weren't the object of value in those little transactions. It was what was in them. Jib said that very same ignorance was like a superpower. My dull disguise must have gone to my head, because when Jib offered me what amounted to a promotion, I jumped at the chance. On these new jobs, my pay would be about 650 pounds a run, just over double