The Greyhound station in Baton Rouge alone is reason enough to justify never taking a bus there. I have been offered every drug for the most reasonable prices outside that building, often several in the course of a few minutes. They will start by asking for a cigarette. The following is my solution in the future:
Passing guy: Hey man, you got a smoke?
Gumbosolo: No, but I've got something better.
Passing guy: (stops) Yeah? What's that?
Gumbosolo: (big eyes) The word of God.
And yeah, midway through our bike trip upstream the smoke from the marsh fires rolled in. I am even less fond of Gonzales now than I used to be.