They usually say, "Talc?! Who the FUCK wants TALC?!"
"You'll like it. Hardness, 1."
"What scale?"
Ooh, kid thinks he knows something.
"Moh's. You got a better one?"
"Original or revised?"
It was a trap and I knew it.
"It's one, either way. Now, how much do you want?"
"How dense?"
"How does 2.7 grab ya?"
"How much?"
"Buck a pound."
"You're nuts. I can get two-eight for half that up the street."
"All right. I got some two-nine. Choice. You want it?"
His eyes lit up. "Can you get me a steatite?"
"Where you gonna get twenty grand?"
"I'm working on a radio. I need two-nine. A steatite."
"Lemme talk to the man."
We talked. Kid *seemed* legit, but there was something funny going on...
"Just what *kind* of radio...?"
"Um, crystal. Big. Amateur SETI."
I looked at the man and he nodded. Kid was a narc, and not a very good one.
"Sorry, Jump Street," I said to the kid. "See ya."