That reminds me of a ride with a friend one morning -
We were rolling down a quiet residential street in Roslindale, one of Boston's *cough* "transitional" neighborhoods - not bad, just not great either. A little frayed at the seams. At about 7:00 am, we went past a house that simply reeked of pot. I can only imagine the scene there the previous night!
Looking back, I wonder if it helped me climb the unanticipated hills later in the ride.