Doctor Occult at the Bus Stop

Between the restaurant and the pub, I spotted a familiar figure at the bus-stop. Despite the soggy rain of last night, the man we call Doctor Occult, that well dressed gentleman of his mid-sixties, was looking as suave and mysterious as ever. We stopped to talk to him for a while. I asked him how he was.
He considered this for a while, as if I had asked a question that demanded some degree of real thought.
'Well, I'm alright... but I'm feeling a little blocked up though.'
'Really? Some kind of late summer cold?' I replied.
'No...' he said sadly, but with a degree of lachrymose glee, 'I've just had too much hashish'.
He said he would see us in the Evening Star, which was unfortunate as we were going to the Lion and Lobster. As we departed I didn't tell him this, but said we would see him in the Evening Star. I have no idea why.