Mods And Rockers And Punks And That

I heard a funny conversation on the bus yesterday between two teenage girls, students. One said she was doing sociology and they were studying "mods and rockers and punks and that." She said, "My teacher was a mod and he's seventy."

"I don't really know what that is," said the other girl, bravely.

"Neither do I," said the first. "I texted my dad and asked him what he used to be. He's forty..."

(I never found out what her dad "used to be" because I had to get off the bus at that point.)

At the start of their journey the same girls, coming up to the top deck of the bus, occupied to that point only by me, passed where I was sitting and one of them suddenly said, "It reeks of marijuana up here!"

They sat down. The girl who thought she could smell the weed got up and opened the window.

"Can't you smell it? It's everywhere!" she said.

"Don't you like it?" the other girl asked.

"Yeah," she said, not sounding at all convincing.

"I've got some in my pocket," said the other.

"Marijuana?" asked the first (I don't know what else her friend could have meant).

"Marijuana," said her friend, importantly.

And then the conversation moved onto something else