Later that summer, with no help from anyone, I found a guy at the park near my house smoking bud. I told him what had happened and what my nickname was. He found it pretty funny, but also took pity on me, and gave me a cigarette foil with several small buds in it. He told me that he was in the park all the time, and had seen me playing with my brothers. He made sure I understood to NEVER approach him unless I was alone, and so was he. That if I saw him anywhere else, if I tried to acknowledge him, he would ignore me, and pretend he had never seen me before. I didn't really understand why all the odd rules, but figured I'd do whatever he asked as he was treating me far cooler than anyone else did, so why not?
I went home that night, and waited till everyone went to sleep. I made a pipe out of a toilet paper tube, and a small piece of foil. Made a mini-steamroller with it. Loaded it with the buds, and discovered that I only had matches, but yet, trying to strike a match while holding the tube to my mouth and cover the open end was just not working! I finally got the hang of holding it with my teeth till I got the match lit, and then quickly covering up the end, using the pressure to hold it against my face. I got 4 or 5 good hard hits off it. Didn't really feel much, so I loaded it again. Half way through the second bowl, it hits me like a train. The match went out in my fingers. Didn't feel a thing. Lost all grip of time, started spacing out, seeing lights and paterns and colors in front of my eyes. Suddenly had no idea how long I had been on the porch, holding this TP tube to my mouth, and went inside. Flushed the remains of the pipe and weed down the toilet. Took a shower to wash off the smell. Became aware of every pore in my body from that shower. Suddenly, I felt hungry like I have never been fed before. I went into the kitchen and ran into a loaf of banana bread. I vaguely recalled my stepmother telling me not to TOUCH it because it was for _______________. I thought "Well, I'll just have a slice.." I put a slab of butter almost as thick as the bread on it, and devoured it like a starving man.
I had a second.
And a third.
Then I remembered I was not supposed to be eating this bread.
"Hmmm... If I eat the ENTIRE LOAF, I can deny knowing ANYTHING about it at all!" I thought..
I ate the entire loaf, drank a half carton of milk and went to sleep. Or tried.
I had the sensation of falling through a waterslide, or the largest silly straw imaginable. Till I finally fell asleep.
Somehow, she never asked about it, and I never said anything about it. Took me 3 days to feel "normal" again.
Monday, January 6, 2014
When I was in 5th grade, I had a "Drug awareness class" presented by our gym teacher and a police officer. I remember thinking when they taught us about cannabis, "Well, THAT'S the one for me!" and wondered how I could ever find some.
Fast forward about 2 years. My mother had died. Father remarried. New neighborhood. One kid says he could get me some, if I had some money..
The "joint" he brought me for my 2 dollars did not look like the ones in the pictures. It looked lumpy, and the paper was odd. He saw my suspicions, and said "What are you scared now? Do it!".
I lit the end with a stolen lighter and began to puff on it. It was harsh, terrible tasting, and yet somehow familiar. I finished the whole thing, and didn't feel any different at all.
Nothing.
Felt the eyes of the group of kids staring at me, waiting to see if my head would come off or something.
"So, you feel that, right? That's some good weed, right?!"
"Uhhhh"... All the kids still staring at me, and not wanting to admit that I had "done it wrong", I said "Oh yeah, I feel it all right. Yeah, I'm high.."
"Really?" said the older boy who took my money. "Are you sure?" he asked in a way that suddenly made me wonder why he was looking at me like that.
"Uhh, yeah, sure I'm sure. What, like I wouldn't know if I was stoned or something?!"
"Because I sold you a tea bag, unfolded and re-rolled, Don Meredith!" He laughed, and everyone lost it, and left me sitting there.
They called me Don Meredith for the rest of the summer.
Fast forward about 2 years. My mother had died. Father remarried. New neighborhood. One kid says he could get me some, if I had some money..
The "joint" he brought me for my 2 dollars did not look like the ones in the pictures. It looked lumpy, and the paper was odd. He saw my suspicions, and said "What are you scared now? Do it!".
I lit the end with a stolen lighter and began to puff on it. It was harsh, terrible tasting, and yet somehow familiar. I finished the whole thing, and didn't feel any different at all.
Nothing.
Felt the eyes of the group of kids staring at me, waiting to see if my head would come off or something.
"So, you feel that, right? That's some good weed, right?!"
"Uhhhh"... All the kids still staring at me, and not wanting to admit that I had "done it wrong", I said "Oh yeah, I feel it all right. Yeah, I'm high.."
"Really?" said the older boy who took my money. "Are you sure?" he asked in a way that suddenly made me wonder why he was looking at me like that.
"Uhh, yeah, sure I'm sure. What, like I wouldn't know if I was stoned or something?!"
"Because I sold you a tea bag, unfolded and re-rolled, Don Meredith!" He laughed, and everyone lost it, and left me sitting there.
They called me Don Meredith for the rest of the summer.
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