first person narrative

So it went at the record shows: After selling for several hours, Mom and I would gingerly repackage everything back into her car, and I’d drive us back home. We’d split the cash, and I’d roll us a joint. “For Richard,” we’d toast as thick blue smoke unfurled around our heads. “Did he hang out with the acts other than just working with them?” I asked.  Mom bit her lip and thought…