The conversation had grown stale earlier than usual. Darrick was droning on about some financial crisis in a European country that was going to devastate the US economy via trade agreements. He held the joint as if it were a conch giving him the right to speak freely and as evidence by his long drawn out monetary conspiracies, felt as though he could hold the Round Table for minutes on end. Derrick animated as always.
		“...and thats how the US is going to collapse, it will be catastrophic, far worse than if North Korea somehow could accurately fire an EMP and dismantle our power grid, no this will be analogous to the detonation of a nuclear warhead, without the immediate causalities.”



		“But, like, how could you know all of this without anyone in the media reporting on it or something… shouldn't you tell someone about this?” Alexis asked with half-stoned curiosity.

		“they just dont know how to yet, you know? No, one can report on this sort of future calamity yet because its not not at its breaking point, not time to cash in, a good journalist doesnt latch on to an opportunity as soon as it appears, a good journalist takes into consideration the shelf life of an opportunity, and finds the best window of time to exploit the story for maximum returns.”

The table somewhere between boredom and stoned awe, was beginning to get restless. Alexis found this to be a good time to go put her occupational talents to use, and made some coffee as she usually did at around 1:00 AM, Thursdays.
	“Anyone want lattes or cappuccinos? Whats the order gonna be?” She asked to no response. Alexis was a barista. A damned good one too.

	Alexis could have been a waitress at a diner and loved every second of it. She could live in a small studio with a chunchilla, decent wifi, and a half paychecks worth of pot. She could be working the 4AM shift and be the one to piss off the recently rolled out of bed crowd with her cheery delight. “HI HOW ARE YOU ALL DOING THIS MORNING LOVELY TO HAVE Y’ALL WHAT CAN I GET YOU ALL STARTED WITH?” She wouldnt be shouting but the patrons eardrums would certainly not be able to discern.
	Thomas was busy imagining this…

	He was oscillating  the half remaining joint with an ember about to enjoy its’ last moments of oxygen, and a way to put all of this conspiratorial nonsense into a story that might be worth writing. He used the spaciness effect that came with smoking with a group of varied potheads as a mechanism for uninterrupted thought, a way to collect all that was unfolding in front of him and for him to add on his ‘What-if-twist’ and if anyone had ever caught him in the act by repeating his name or snapping  their fingers in his face, he would just  blame the product. He  became a de facto space cadet but Thomas  has enjoyed his defense mechanism ever since its discovery. He glanced over at Gary, long time Thursday night Round Table member, who was siting back texting fervently no doubt to some drug seeker looking to pick up a late night snack. The ember was nearly suffocated.
		“Derrick, need I remind you that man discovered fire at the 	very least 500,000 years ago?” Thomas interjected.

		“Oh, shit sorry man, you know how I get. Allow me.”

	Derrick rekindled the joint, and took a greedy light up puff to of course make sure the tip was properly lit. He offered the rotation to Gary, who had made a hard pass and refused to look up from his phone. Gary had seldom used his phone on Thursday nights, so when he did, they all knew it was something that was ‘big’ in his world, so they let him be. No one else was offered this lienency and if any other person in the rotation was on their phone for more than 30 seconds, they were to be bombarded with disparaging comments about how shitty their generation is and how by texting in the middle of a conversation you are only propagating the stereotype that Millenials ruin everything. Thomas grabbed the joint lightly, took a long hit, and passed it to the new girl,Kimberly. Kimberly, a barefooted bohemian, refused not only her feet but also her chest the germane undergarment. Though no one could ever tell unless she told you. She was blessed with a gravity defying quality that was equally as physically fascinating as it was sexually arousing. The ultimate aphrodisiac for most young men, and a envious source that challenged the psyche of even the most confident of women who would ask themselves why not me? Thomas, though he felt a bit guilty about it upon later reflection, took many lewd space trips of himself and the bohemian making love on a beach. He would play writer and she could do whatever she pleased, work, not work, socialize, smoke, drink, fuck. If not for the impurity of the thought than definitively for the cliché of it it all. Thomas had in his mind ruined all future hope he had with Kimberly when one night he drunkenly called her ‘Hover Tits’.