Grrr…must resist attempt to comment further…at work…shouldn’t be taking time out to read blogs…damn…need new job.
You guys hiring?

The thing is, although the ruffians were, by their own admission, “smoking marijuana,” and by the state of the stairwell, apparently left in a mighty hurry, they didn’t actually leave any pot behind (would you?).

Upon closer inspection (ahem . . . as I was preparing to take the evidence to the police), the pot turned out to be non-wacky tobaccy, presumably from a hollowed-out blunt (that means cigar in rampaging-youth speak).

I was, of course, relieved not to have to dispose of any illegal substances; relived, and not sad.

What’s worse is, after our boss scared them off, the office again smells like the stale sandwiches from the sandwich shop downstairs, and lacks the soothing smell of marijuana.

I think I’ll go home early today. This place is BORing.