When drug deals go misunderstood

Me and Mrs Block went to the pub a couple of nights ago. We're sat there outside on a wall with a vodka tonic, the warm night air and lots of people drinking and laughing all around when some guy comes over to Mrs Block and says 'is your name crystal?'
'No, though that is a cool name - if your stripper anyway'
'Oh OK, I thought you looked like a girl I know called Crystal from Peru.'
'No no, but I'm always getting mistaken for Spanish/Greek/Portuguese/insert country here' (Mrs Block has a wide variety in her family).
'Oh ok' he says, and then we have a slightly surreal and awkward conversation about Peru before he wanders off.
We think this is a bit weird. I mean, who the hell calls their daughter Cyrstal? Is he trying to chat her up? (she is rather pretty - and I am punching above my weight) but then why try and chat up a girl who's clearly with another guy who (and I don't mean to blow my own trumpet or anything) looks a damn sight bigger and meaner than you?
We're thinking about this when we notice he's gone on to another table and seems to be having the same conversation with someone else, then another, then another. And then a little lightbulb appears over our heads and we suddenly realise - he's a drug dealer. And suddenly I feel very stupid and uncool and not down with the kids at all for not knowing today's euphemism, like I should go up to the guy and say 'Hey, I get it now, Cystal, from Peru, as in meth yeah?' And then I'm wondering why I'm bothered about looking like an idiot in front of a drug dealer.
Mrs Block finds the whole thing very amusing, especially the bit of floundering around by the guy trying to say something interesting abut Peru.
And then I'm thinking there's a lot of people whispering in his ear, Christ there's a lot of junkies around here - which makes me feel a little bit sad.
And then we went home.

Quote for today:
"A lot of people think I'm a Michael Jackson impersonator" - Michael Jackson