I was once approached by a drug dealer who tried to offer me drugs (as his job title would imply). Being a little unnerved by this I decided the best approach was to ignore the man, fearing that any response on my part would trigger a conversation which he would use to reel me in. This did not go down to well with the drug dealer who asked again, this time slightly more annoyed, “I asked you; would you like any drugs?”
Again, I took the silent approach, hoping to avoid the whole situation but this only made the drug dealer more annoyed. “All you have to do is say ‘no thank you’ if you don’t want anything,” he grumbled.
I suddenly felt a little ashamed of my actions and sheepishly responded with, “No thank you.”
“See. Good manners don’t cost anything,” he said and walked off leaving me a little confused about what had just happened. Being lectured about manners by a drug dealer is not the kind of thing you usually expect to happen during a normal day but somehow this drug dealer had just gained the moral high ground over me.
I quickly decided that he must have been a gentleman drug dealer, a man of high standards and moral character. I imagined him returning home at the end of the day and retiring to the study with a glass of 1842 chardonnay, wearing a smoking jacket and sitting by the fire in his favorite antique leather arm chair, surrounded by high shelves containing his many volumes of valuable books (some of them rare first editions). He sits there and he thinks in silence for a time.
A short while later his wife enters the room to give him the evening news paper. She crosses the large room with grace.
“What is wrong Jerald?” She asks him, noticing the frown upon his face as she gives the paper to him. Her voice is soft and loving with a hint of an Irish accent.
“Ah, Barbra,” he replies, his words heavy with the weight of his troubles as he places the newspaper neatly upon his lap. “Sometimes I despair at the apparent moral decay of our society. Sometimes I wonder; when did politeness become such a rear commodity. Are we now living in an age where indifference and apathy are common place?”
“What is it my dear? Did another customer ignore you today?” She asks in her calming but concerned tone of voice, taking the seat next to him and lightly resting her hands on his arm.
He breaks his gaze away from the fire to look upon the face of his beautiful wife. “Indeed they did my dear. I know I should not let it vex me so. After all, I do not mind if they do not desire my services but to be ignored… well… that is simply rude and uncalled for.”
“It is terrible indeed. Good manners cost nothing as your father always used to say but sadly not everyone has be raised to understand this the way you and I have. You should try to rise above it and not let it trouble your mind.” She caresses his cheek to sooth his thoughts.
“You are wise in deed my dear. I will try to do so.” He smiles to her.
“Good” She also smiles.
“I wonder, is little Timmy in bed?” he asks, changing the subject after a short pause.
“Indeed he is.” She replies.
“And did he finish his algebra homework.” He asks.
“Indeed he did. He also cleaned his room, helped the maid with the laundry and recited me a poem, all before tucking himself into bed.” She says with a smile, proud of their young son.
“He is a good boy isn’t he? We have raised him well haven’t we?” He asks, his mind already wondering back to the previous conversation.
“Indeed he is and we have raised him well. I have no doubt in my mind that he will grow up to be a hard working, honest, god fearing drug dealer just like his father.” She responds with conviction.
He smiles proudly. “Indeed.”
(For more stories about bizarre encounters with drug dealers check out: The Relationship Advice Drug Dealer)