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I like to think I cut a dash when I'm out and about.  Scruffy energy is my thing.

I was cutting through the blocks in my neighbourhood ( I refer to it as the "Flatlands" on account of the architecture ) on my way home last Sun, when I saw a group of local youth hovered around the doorway of one of the blocks.  I thought this looked like an opportunity to get rolled but they were about 20 yards beyond where my path diverted.

I cast them a glance, they looked like nothing so much as a bunch of pigeons on a rooftop awaiting someone to throw out some bread or something, and made my diversion continuing a brisk pace. 
I heard single footsteps behind me and silently cursed that I still hadn't got round to watching those self defence vids I got ages ago.  A few steps behind, the guy began hailing me....

" Excuse me".    I thought 'here we go,  40p or a cigarette ?? '    ( 40p is the better deal for the accosted :)     and I haven't got either for anybody in that situation.   I continued apace and he continued hailing with polite familiarity until he got alongside.  He was almost running. 
"Here Boss, I've got what you're looking for".  I looked at him without breaking my step and shook my head.  He stayed and we got to the middle of a road between blocks.  He looked at me and lowered his eyes and voice " I got brown too if you want".

' No.'   It was the first time I'd spoken.  He dropped back.   And I continued home thinking "what did I just turn down ??".     Brown ??

I'm not that au fait with most aspects of the, ahem, popular scene ( economic house arrest and all that ) but the persistant whiff of grass on the streets and my innocent knowledge of the present lack of hash worth buying made me wonder if that was the current slang for the latter.
Not that anyone but a tourist would care less about being burned by buying ( how we love aliteration lol :) a street deal.

But "brown" ??   First thing I'd associate, being old fashioned and worldly, is "smack" but the situation had been v.ambiguous.  When I got home I checked it out on the net, yeah, I know how to do that sorta thing, and my "instinct" on it had been right.
Brown = diamorphine base.


So I conclude, my appearance when I peramble my neighbourhood  (woolly hat, shemagh, faded leather jacket, straight pants and timberlands) is that of a fellow traveller of those uspeakably derelict, antisocial individuals who frequent the entrance to the methadone clinic on the main road. 


But who am I to be standoff'ish.



I got an email yesterday from one of my courtesy ( a.k.a Shop ) nephs saying he'd been checking out some old TV series, "Homicide, life on the streets",  and I reminded him of one of the characters, only I was more cool.
I replied pointing out that all he knew about the character was that what he said was scripted, whereas with me ......

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