How does a middle-aged guy tell a pretty young store clerk that

[MiddleFingerMom]

12. If you were SURE it was her... not a big deal.

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(discreetly) "You know, maybe I'm completely wrong, but you REALLY
smell like pot smoke and may not be aware of how long that smell will
linger around you."
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Then... no matter what her reaction, adjust YOURS to hers -- your job
will have been done.
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I used to ride the bus (definite hippie-biker look) and I'd smoke just
before the bus got to my stop, not thinking until I climbed on the
bus about that smell. Usually, it would dawn on me -- when two
people would look at each other and grin or laugh knowingly just
how much I was broadcasting my proclivity.
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Coming back to my hometown on the bus from my pre-entrance testing
to join the Army, I sat in the second-to-last seat. In the last seat was
a young woman who might easily STILL be one of the most gorgeous
young women I've ever met in my life. She turned out to be a prostitute
going to visit "her man" (the state prison was in my hometown).
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We talked for quite awhile (neither one of us being interested in her
profession during that whole trip) and got along great. She invited me
into the bathroom to smoke a joint (still not professionally). When we
came out, we realized that the rest of the bus was PACKED with senior
citizens, ALL of whom had now become one as they got up in their seats
and turned around to glare daggers at the two of us -- undoubtedly for
the nonexistent sex, the undeniable drugs and the inaudible rock n' roll
playing in our heads.
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I don't think the two of us could completely stop giggling during the
half-hour or so it took us to get to our destination.
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