Who know who really grinds my gears?
Drug Peddlers. So I am in a bodgea, which happens to be on the first floor of my building. Im just trying to get some iced tea and all the sudden this conversation happens:
Creep: Hey, you live in this building right?
Me: Umm... Can I help you?
Creep: I got purple haze. You want some?
Me. I am good, thanks.
Creep: No, like NYU kids like purple, I am sure you want some. (He says this as I am picking out a bottle of Snapple and looking away from him)
Me: *ignores him*
Creep: Silence means a yes, here is my card (hands me an index card with a 6 digit phone number on it), call me if you want some weed, smack, purple haze or crack.
Me: Please leave me alone or I am calling the cops
Creep: Runs away
Like, just like buy my fucking snapple. i dont want any drugs. Go bother people in Bed Stuy or something.
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