I was in the cafeteria or restaurant of some city landmark, possibly a museum. I found myself chatting with a group of older men who gathered there every week. We talked about the varying quality of the food in places like this. I was flattered that they seemed amused by my repartee. It seemed as though I was being invited into the fold and I asked when they’d be there next. One of them asked me if I could buy him some pot. A fifth of a pound, he wanted.