“Hey! Indie boys! Is this the show?” you holler.
They turn around. One has spiky bleached hair. The other is fiddling with his nose ring. Spiky Hair Boy nods glibly. “You’re a little early. The bands aren’t here yet.”
His friend holds out a hand hopefully. “You got a cigarette?”
You don’t. You don’t smoke. It’s so bad for your lungs! You panic, scrambling for a way to say no and still seem cool.
Choose one.