I have picked out my Greek boyfriend for the few days I will be here: Yiannis, a waiter at one of the restaurants on our snug little agora up in the hills, Athenian, smart, cute, a good talker, a good listener. He said when we talked at the end of his shift that he can get us weed, no problem. This is the island of dust, he said. In many ways, he said, with eyebrows, which we clarified means blow.