Misadventures in Not Dealing Drugs

I am not a drug dealer. To most people who know me that should be a pretty obvious statements, but a few times people have tried to buy drugs from me.  Two such times jump out.

Once, around 5:15, 5:30 in the morning I was waiting outside View Towers for a friend whom I was going on a daytrip to Vancouver with.  In a very low voice he asked if I had any drugs. I shook my head (or maybe said no; I can’t recall). A while later, apparently wondering if I hadn’t heard him, he asked again in a slightly louder voice. I shook my head again (same caveat). A while later he tried one more time, this time in normal voice.  If my friend hadn’t come, I half-suspect he would have eventually worked his way up to a megaphone.

Then yesterday a guy asked, “Got some rock?” in front of a church. He asked in a low voice, and then because I genuinely hadn’t made out what he asked the first time, he tried one more time in a normal voice.  Happily he took no for an answer but given the location it did hammer home that where addicts are concerned, literally nothing is sacred.