Overhearing a conversation about stinging insects reminded me of one of the stupidest drug deals of all time.
Or I should say attempted drug deal.
I was a freshman at a small state college in New England. And one day, after lunch I think, I was heading into my dorm when one of my fellow Liberal Arts scholars hailed me.
“Heyyyyyyyyy, my philosophy man. Wanna buy some yellow jackets?”
Pulling it halfway out of his jacket pocket, he showed me a baggie of capsules.
I didn't really know what yellow jackets were. (They are barbituates, at least that's what they were in the 1970s.) But I told him I wasn't interested. He never approached me again.
A few minutes later, I described the encounter to a few of my suite-mates. And for a couple of weeks, they had fun addressing me in a new and exceedingly laid-back way.
“Heyyyyyyyyy, my philosophy man.”