Igneous rock, it is not.

Actual conversation I overheard as I was exiting work this evening:

DUMB-LOOKING KID #1, TO DUMB LOOKING KID #2: Dude, you got any rocks left?

(Ali thinks, "Surely they are talking about some new energy drink or a geology project")

DUMB-LOOKING KID #1, CONTINUES: Because I really wanna smoke one before I go to the library.

(Ali thinks, "Oh shit!")

DUMB LOOKING KID #2: Nah, man. We did all of it last night.

DUMB LOOKING KID #3: Aw, dude! Last night was bomb, man!

DUMB LOOKING KID #1, WITH DOUBT: I dunno man, some of that stuff we tried was too dopey.

Really. You're critical of something that seems "too dopey."

I was no less than ten feet in front of the small pack of drug-users as they had this discussion. Now, I didn't get hear whether Dumb Looking Kid #2 agreed if the other stuff was too dopey, or if last night was, indeed, bomb, but I really don't know if I could have listened to much more without turning around (in my ballet flats, pleated denim skirt, and messenger bag, no less) and saying "Um, hey, you guys are in a historic college town in NEW HAMPSHIRE, okay? I mean, Thoreau's mom was born right down the street. Hard drugs are really not what we do here. Sooooo, please go back to your ghetto and leave us alone." I kinda wish I had actually done it, just to see their reaction. Although, if they're in the category of people that commonly talk about smoking crack cocaine in the front entrance of the busiest building on campus, perhaps it's better that I didn't get the chance. Maybe one of them would have pulled out a gun.

Or thrown rocks at me.