I don't know if I hate this or not. I guess it's kind of amusing.
I was walking out the door on my way to work this morning when I run into a middle-aged man in a suit. He's smoking a cigarette. He, presumably, was on his way to work as well. As I caught up to him, I got a strong whiff of something that had no place in public.
Upon closer review, this man's cigarette was actually a roach. Are they still called roaches? Um, how about a "J"? Let's make it abundantly clear and go with "marijuana cigarette."
I guess I was impressed. That takes some guts. But Fessenden Street is fairly quiet, so whatever. Then, to my astonishment, he took the corner onto Wisconsin. And he didn't stop smoking. Just your normal guy in a suit having a nice little wake-and-bake before a long day at the office. On a major avenue routinely filled with cops. Wow. He didn't put his joint away until we were 50 yards from the Friendship Heights elevators. (Maybe he didn't want to share with the crazy homeless lady. She's always Bogarting my stash, man.)
How should I feel about this? It can't be good for the neighborhood. Can it? Then again, I'm way too young to be concerned with drugs in my neighborhood. That's an old person problem. And, to be honest, I was pretty impressed with the guy's nerve.
Here's my dream scenario: I'm out on the porch enjoying a Sierra Nevada. Public Smoker walks past. A mother accompanied by her five-year-old daughter walks past in the other direction. She catches a whiff and flips her shit. "HOW DARE YOU DO THAT IN FRONT OF MY CHILD" and/or "I AM CALLING THE POLICE," and so on. Then the young daughter starts bawling. I think that would keep me amused for a while.
So, I guess I don't hate this. Though it is pretty weird. I'll make sure to invite him to my next BBQ so I can pick his brain.