Alright, so I’ve been trying to grow these heirloom tomatoes on my balcony for months, right? But they kept looking sad and yellowish no matter what I did. My neighbor Bert – the guy with crazy pumpkin vines – told me, “Man, you need that black gold stuff!” Apparently, black gold soil is like magic for veggies. So today became Operation Find Black Gold Dirt Nearby.
Started with the obvious spots
First thing this morning, I drove over to GreenThumb Garden Center downtown. Walked straight to their soil section expecting big bags labeled “BLACK GOLD.” Found eight types of mulch, six kinds of potting mix… zero black gold. Employee named Chad shrugged: “We stopped carrying that last fall – shipping costs killed us.” Dead end.
Next hit Lowe’s garden department. Same drill – scanned every bag under those blinding warehouse lights. Nothing. Asked the kid stacking Miracle-Gro. He looked at me like I asked for unicorn poop. “Try calling the landscaping places?” he mumbled. Solid help.
The detour that actually worked
Grabbed lunch feeling pretty defeated. Then I remembered Bert mentioning some “soil dude” out near the old mill. Drove twenty minutes into sketchville – past abandoned tire shops and that one creepy barn. Finally spotted this handwritten sign: “DIRT CHEAP.”
Guy named Frank emerged from a shed covered in actual dirt. I asked about black gold. He scratched his beard: “Ain’t nobody calls it that anymore – we just say super compost now.” Then walks me behind his shed. There it was: steaming piles of dark, crumbly soil smelling like a forest after rain.
Here’s what worked for finding it:
- Skipped big chain stores completely – total waste of gas
- Asked landscapers instead of retail clerks (Frank knew his dirt)
- Looked for places with compost piles visible from the road
- Took Bert’s “soil dude” tip seriously even though it sounded nuts
What I brought home
Frank loaded my trunk with five garbage bags full for ten bucks cash. Best part? He showed me his setup – just mixing leaf mulch with coffee grounds from the diner downtown. “Black gold ain’t special dirt,” he laughed, “It’s just crap that’s been rotting right.” Got home and repotted all my sad tomatoes immediately. Fingers crossed now!
Lesson learned: This stuff’s hiding in plain sight if you forget fancy garden centers and look for the guy who actually touches dirt every day. Should’ve just asked Bert sooner – would’ve saved me three weeks of dead tomato dreams.
