I was heading out of the Fringe office yesterday to meet Schnappi for lunch, and this guy does the usual “can I bum a smoke?” I gave me normal response of, “sorry, it’s my last one” while my fingers grazed the whole pack in my cargo shorts. And then he continued, “well, some Vicodin, then?”
That gave me pause. Of all the things to ask for, Vicodin? Is there something about a bright blue shirt and khaki cargo shorts that tips off people that “hey, there’s someone with wicked stuff in her pocket”?
I laughed to myself and kept going, and made my way over to the Xcel plaza a few blocks away. About ten minutes later, the SAME DUDE came up to me and said, “really, are you sure you can’t spare a vicodin?”
Color me confused.
Schnappi said that if I was a drug user, I’d look like someone to go after the prescription drugs rather than the illegal. Which is probably true.
Time for my xanax, excuse me.
