Franklin and Red

Adrian and I were chillaxin on the common, eating some subway and discussing fond memories, when we were approached by a goofy lookin guy with gelled hair and an old army coat. He enthusiastically squats down in front of us.
"hey guys," he says, "I'm not trying to get weird with you or anything, but would you be willing to give me 5 dollars if I can properly guess where you got your shoes, [something else], and [something else--I can't remember but it's irrelevant]. Then I'll buy a joint and smoke it with you guys."
Adrian backs out, but I'm curious and the joint potential wins me over, so I'm like yeah sure. He proceeds to tell me that I got my shoes on my feet, and a bunch of other bullshit that ends with me giving him 5 dollars. Then he runs off to get some weed and papers.
Just as I begin to think im never gonna see this dude again, he's back. And he has a friend--some Irish dude with red hair who introduces himself as Red. Easy. The other dude says his name is Franklin while Red proceeds to roll a fat j. We smoke and shoot the shit. Red yells to another one of his friends to give him his "hack." we later find out this is a Hackey sack and that Red is really good. But we never get to see him hack because Red is also really high.
After they left we enjoyed the full beauty of Boston, walking through the gardens, lying on the esplanade watching sailboats, and lovin the beautiful weather (it was like 75 degrees or something perfect like that).
Anyways I guess the moral of the story is that sometimes getting swindled out of 5 bucks can actually make your day even better. Or that weed is really nice. Not really sure but I guess you can decide. If you read the whole thing--my phone makes it look really long so I hope it's not too long. I guess to wrap this up I'll just throw down a picture I took when I was in this awesome blissful state yesterday. Peace bros.