My friend Ralph wanted to score some grass from a dodgy contact he had who lives in a bedsit. We're in a big city and we arrive by underground train. The entrance to the underground was very ornate - maybe victorian - with a square staircase that runs around a wide square ticket hall. We leave the underground and enter a 1960s tower block which is directly above the underground entrance. A couple of stories up we are let into a small bedsit by a nervous, scruffy man. The flat has a couple of mattresses on the floor, a tv and stereo - not much else. He spoke in a low voice, saying the cops were on to him and that he didn't have anything on him at the moment. Ralph suggests raking across the carpet with his hands to pick up the fragments of grass strewn over the un-vaccumed floor. Final we left with a whole bag. We were very nervous, expecting to be followed down to the underground.