Граф Орлов
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I’ve already gotten used to the fact that whenever I go outside, someone invariably asks me for a cigarette, and it's unlikely to happen just once. But today, things didn't end with requests from smokers: some guy of Caucasian appearance kept asking if I had any drugs and whether I would sell them to him, and only after my refusal did he try to ask for a cigarette in the usual way, but even that failed.
Actually, seeing my reflection in the elevator mirror, I realized that his confidence in me having drugs was perhaps not unfounded.
Personally, this is exactly how I always imagined drug dealers.
E si sui vius, er mi grans benananza,
e si ieu muoir, er mi grans deliuriers
e si ieu muoir, er mi grans deliuriers