My Ancient prof's dealer.

So I'm sitting in the hallway waiting for my meeting, and this guy, early 40sish, comes out of my Ancient professor's office with a backpack, a clipboard, and a Tupperware container lined with tinfoil. I figure drug dealer. I ask him how he is as he walks by; he says he's fine. A few steps later, he comes back and says, `You asked--and you care.' Thus begins a few minutes of meaningless small talk about how hoi polloi can't seem to rise above meaningless small talk. Then he says, `Want some chocolate?' and opens his foil-lined Tupperware to reveal chunks of chocolate. Now I know that (strangers x candy)/(your mom) = butt doctor, but I dig me some chocolate, so I accept. Just as I put it in my mouth, he asks, `So what do you think I do for a living?' I tell him: `I see the clipboard and the backpack; you're here at a professor's office mid-afternoon; you've got chocolate; I think you're a drug dealer.' He got a good laugh out of that. Turns out he buys "textbooks" from "professors" and sells "them" on "the" "internet". Yeah right.
posted by Liar at 16:54