“No dude, man…come on, yes you can have popcorn, it’s not like my dad is going to come home and be all like hey son get out of my popcorn Phillis”.
And that was some of the shit I said when I was super baked.
It was a year or two after I graduated high school, I was still living with my parents and my best friend lived on the other side of the block. My friend was a stoner for a long time at this point, me on the other hand didn’t start smoking pot until I graduated from high school. He wasn’t even the one that got me into it.
One day in 2003, a year after graduating high school. Holy shit dude, I….I was single at the time, I don’t think my kid was born yet, no…no he wasn’t because Lance was a senior that year, which must mean it was before June of that year.
Anyhow…I was sitting at home with nothing to do, my mom was working, my dad was working, and my sister was still in school. I was bored out of my mind, there is only so much TV you can watch, video games you can play, or porn you can look at before you start to go stir crazy. That day, out of nowhere I just up and decided to smoke pot.
Anyways…so I’ve been smoking for some time at this point. And growing up as a kid in the 80’s and 90’s who got “Marijuana is evil” type shit shoved down my throat I grew up believing what the media told me. Soon after a incident during my sophomore year of high school, in Washington State, I opened my eyes and realized how prevalent the substance was.
Even though I didn’t start smoking pot until three years later, I no longer thought it was evil.
I can sit here all day all tell you how I support its legalization. You know how proud I am to be living in Nebraska but still being one of the 55.7% of voters who legalized the recreational use of Marijuana in Washington State.
Until you use the “drug,” you just wont get it. And it may not be right for you, and that’s fine. But don’t be someones stick in the mud because they want to sit at home in front of their TV and take a few bong hits.
This day my friend Eric was hanging out with his friend Tony and they came over to my house to hang out. Once again no one was home. It was a sunny day on the western side of the state, it wasn’t even raining.
Eric stood there in the opening that connected the entry way into the kitchen while Tony was talking to me about something that must have not been that important. I’m standing in the cold glow of the refrigerator, reaching in to grab a soda from a half full cardboard box. I’m staring down and as I’m turning around to look towards Eric’s direction his hand is right in front of my eyes before I even turn around.
“Hey man, you want to smoke?”
He was holding a green stemed metal pipe with a threaded cap with a hole in the top of it. This was before we had glass pieces. A metal pipe was as good as we got at that time. At that age I usually smoked out of a can-a-bong or a homemade steam roller made out of a toilet paper roll, aluminum foil, and scotch tape.
“Yea, dude…I’m not doing anything important anyways.”
It was about 3:00 in the afternoon and I knew I had the house to myself for a few hours. I’d be on my way down the hill by the time they got home. My mom claims that she never smoked pot, I haven’t really asked her, but based on who she is I’m assuming she hasn’t. My dad may have, I’m pretty sure he had, although he will tell you otherwise.
I was not worried about being stoned in front of my parents, they didn’t know what they were looking for, at least not that I knew of. Being stoned is kinda easy to hide as is, unless my mom was to hold conversation asking me to count to ten half way though the conversation but asking me what I was just talking about I was fine…No worries brah.
Eric unscrewed the cap of his pipe and showed me a untapped nug of the greenest, skunkiest, crystallized nug of weed I have ever seen with orangeish hairs intertwined with one another all encompassing the sweet nectar of the Tetrahydrocannabinol molecule.
Without even saying a word Eric was quick to say, “I got this shit from my dads stash man,” after a short pause he continues with, “my pops get some good shit man…he should be re-uping soon.” His dad didn’t openly share this knowledge with Eric, Eric even got in trouble from his dad a few time because he smoked pot.
All three of us step into the backyard, Eric and I sat on the concrete step while Tony stood on the patio in front of us. Soon after we ended us passing this pipe and lighter between the three of us until the bowl was cashed.
About 15 hits later, 5 for each of us, and plenty of time to have many idiotic but hilarious side conversations about nothing we remembered what we were going to do ten minutes ago.
We stood up; as far as I go, standing up was a longer process for me, I couldn’t just jump up like Eric was able to, shortly after the stretch of time which made 2 minutes seem like a half an hour we turned around and went inside the house.
I don’t know if it was because I was stoned, oh yes I do, it was totally because I was fucking faded. I had the best bowl of Cookie Crisp in that few hours of my parents being away. Once the milk soaked up all the crispy, crunchy cookies turning them in the texture of wet sand that was eatable with some form of solidification it was as if I was eating the best medium-rare steak with a baked potato complete with all the fixings while some naked porn star was under the table sucking my dick.
“Oh my god dude, this is like the best bowl of cereal I ever had.”
Of course Eric responded by waving his hand up in the air like a slower upper cut while saying, “coooooookie crisp.” That caused Tony to laugh at something only kids and stoners find funny. I just continued to eat my cereal as if I was able to walk on water.
I don’t know what it is about me being stoned but when I know I don’t have to worry about how stupid I might be I just start talking but halfway though whatever I’m saying I just keep talking while my brain drifts off in la la land.
Tony grabbed both nobs and opened up the pantry that was just a small cupboard that hung above the telephone and a stack of bills that my parents had yet to pay. He was carefully scanning the inside of this cupboard, Nutty bars, Oatmill Cream Pies, Salt and Vinegar Chips, a big box of granola bars that my parents got from Costco, a box of pre maid mash potatoes, and a bunch of other shit that most people would skip past. His head stopped rotating, like a cat finding it prey.
He saw the box of microwavable popcorn sitting in the back by a box of crackers and said, “hey dude, can I like have some of this popcorn and shit.”
“I don’t know man, shit is kinda nasty,” Eric is laughing after he hears my response.
Tony goes onto tell me what he meant to say, but before he could even finish “Yea man, have some popcorn.”
I pause to wash my bowl in the sink and start to say, “No dude, man…come on, yes you can have popcorn.” At this moment I kinda forgot what I was saying, I still knew I was talking, I just kept talking until some unknown thoughts came out of my mouth.
For some reason I was thinking about Gary Coleman and the show Different Strokes. But I did it wrong, and I think that’s what made the last half of my response so funny, “it’s not like my dad is going to come home and be all like hey son get out of my popcorn Phillis”.
After looking at Eric laugh I started to laugh at what I just said as I was asking, “did I just say that.”
I guess it was a total you had to have been there moment. That story popped into my head when I said a photo on Facebook that said. “If you work as security at a Samsung store does that make you a guardian of the Galaxy?”
Now that I think about it, I have another funny, it may only be funny to me and who was there, story that involves Jimi Hendrix.