The Hookup

I've lost of the number of times I've been offered hash over the past week. Seems like every time I walk by some random guys sitting on the street, one of them comes up to me and starts a conversation. After the initial pleasantries (which, ironically, are rarely pleasant) of telling him I'm from Uzbekistan and my name is Boris, the conversation invariably turns to, "If you ever need anything, you just let me know. I can hook you up."

This morning, right on cue, one of the guys came up to me and started talking. I think we'd already gone through the intial stuff a previous day, so he just got straight to the point.

"I can help you out if you need anything."
"Hmm...what kind of stuff can I get?
"I deal strickly under-the-table. You know, that kind of thing."
"What kind of things?"
"You know, the smoke?"
"Oh...that. Well, I don't smoke, so..."
"No problem. I can get you other stuff as well."
"What other stuff?"
"You know, hard stuff."
"Ahh...you mean like heroin or cocaine?"
"Shhh...don't say that too loud."
"Could you get me embarrassing pictures of government figures?"
"No, sir. But my name is Sherif, if you ever need anything."