I'm talking about the gumbo trade of course. Even if you get a good review, your competitors start to circle you like vultures. They can't beat me. My gumbo is nostalgia served in a cup or a bowl. But they can make cheap imitations, counterfeits. Soon enough, they'll be importing gumbo from China.
Not only that, I have to cope with all these new gumbo trafficking laws the US is trying to force other countries to adopt. Every time I cook up a pot, my restaurant is crawling with federales & waiting for me to a wrong move. I can't even walk into a market stall and buy bell-peppers anymore, without vendors giving me the once over. And forget about hot sauce. I'd be hauled in for questioning if I even tried to make a purchase. I have to send out straw purchasers for my Louisiana Gold, Crystal, or when nothing else is around - Tobasco.
Take my advice - play it safe. Become a rich and famous music star. Don't paddle your pirogue down into the gumbo dream. It's muddy. It's murky and it's deep. You'll likely end up without your wooden paddle and your ambitions will have vanished into the roux of life like so many slices of okra.
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