When I left the States back in late September, my hair was short and as fashionably cut as Supercuts could make it. Clean shaven, clean and unratty clothes, and a newly gained Professional Engineer's License in hand (well, in an envelope in one of my unmarked boxes). Now I am approached by almost every random I walk past in an attempt to sell me ganja. Or in the most recent case, cocaine. Haven't had any opium offers since I left Laos though. It's constant! I feel like I am squandering some hidden talent to look disreputable or something. Haven't taken anyone up on their offers so don't worry, ma. Bad lungs, no desire (beer is enough), and seeing the inside of a jail isn't on my list of things to do today.
It makes me chuckle!