My friend Frank lived at the corner of First Avenue and 10th Street, a druggie nexus at the time. He complained that every time he returned home, a barrage of dealers would approach, hissing "Smoke? Smoke?" at him.
He tried explaining that he lived there, and that he wasn't interested in buying drugs (at least not their drugs). But they all told him that with the hordes of people walking past that corner, it's impossible to memorize every face.
I suggested to Frank that he respond to their pitches by saying, simply, "Rice Chex". Within three days, I assured him, he'd be recognized as The Dude Who Says "Rice Chex", and after that he wouldn't even need to say "Rice Chex" to be recognized.
The story ends anticlimactically, I'm afraid, as Frank foolishly failed to take my advice - too abashed to do anything so weird as to say "Rice Chex" to strangers.
But it'd have worked.
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