High Times

I will be honest with you all: I have never really been much of a weed smoker. I can count on two hands…and maybe a couple of toes, all of the times I’ve smoked in my life. My indulgences have been that few and far in between. As you all probably know by now, whenever I’m involved in something, there is a strong possiblility that a silly story will result from the experience. Today’s topic is no different, for I am going to reminicse on some of my weed-smoking experiences. Hopefully, somebody somewhere will be able to relate to somtehing written here.

My First Time Getting High

The first time I smoked weed was the summer after 10th grade with my older cousin(whom shall be listed uner an alias so that this blog can never be used in court). He used to sell it and smoke it, which is probably why he never became a big-time weed man back then. I think he only worried about selling enough to support his own habit, but that’s neither here nor there. The thing about Cuz is that he hated to smoke alone. I mean, truly despised that shit. He’d get angry if you were at his house and didn’t smoke with him. Everyone knew Cuz was already the negro equivalent to a pit bull dog with his mood swings, so the first time he got on that “Come on, smoke with me man!” shit, I just decided to give it a try instead of having to come to blows with family. The funny thing is, I did not get high for some reason. I’ve heard that some folks say they don’t get high the first time, but that was the first thing I’d smoked, EVER. I didn’t even try a nicotine cigarette until college, which did absolutely NOTHING for me except make me stink. I think I may have messed up with my inhaling technique.

The second time I smoked with Cuz, it was a whole ‘nother story. I got high as giraffe pussy that day. We were over at this guy Adam’s house watching that movie “Fresh” on video. I must’ve been high, because that movie was one of the greatest movies in the history of mankind to me that day. I was RIVETED. I was like “This shit is better than Scarface, The Godfather, AND ET!” In hindsight, I see that weed made that movie seem a LOT better than it really was. Not knocking it at all, but it’s no classic by any stretch of the imagination.

Also, that was my first time experiencing the munchies, which I also thought was a myth until I saw an unopened box of ginger snaps on Adam’s counter. I asked him could I have some, and he said it was cool. All I know is, I ate the whole box in one sitting while the movie was on. I reached in the last time, and all I felt was sandy little ginger snap crumbs. That’s how I KNEW I was higher than I’d ever been before.

That evening, Cuz told me all kinds of ways to hide my highness from my mom when I got home, and I did everything in my power to get that weed smell off of me. I got in the house, went straight to my room, and fell the fuck asleep on top of the bed. I came back downstairs a couple of hours later to get some dinner, and my mom looked at me for a second and just shook her head. I’m sure she could tell that I was high as fuck earlier, but she never said anything about it. To this day, I have yet to ask her if she really knew.

The Bad High

This is the REAL reason I don’t get high right here. Actually, there’s two reasons: The first reason was that I never wanted to waste my money on weed. I have enough vices when you consider women, clothes, liquor, women, and clothes. I didn’t need to add to the list. The second reason is because my sophomore year in college, I experienced a bad high. I didn’t even know such a thing was possible from smoking marijuana. I thought you had to be on some hard shit like LSD or heroin to have bad highs…but shit, this one weed experience had me paranoid like a motherfucker for some reason.

My sophomore year roommate at Hampton was a really smart guy with a great singing voice. He was there on a scholarship as a voice major, and freshman year, he seemed like a straight-laced, bookworm type of fellow. All I know is, once we decided to be roommates, the real him came out from hiding in a hurry. He was still cool and friendly, but this dude smoked on a daily basis and had all kinds of women in and out of the dorm room almost every night. To be honest, I was concerned for him, but impressed with his dedication…to getting high and fucking every night. That dude was truly pimpin…Too bad it all caught up to him eventually. He smoked and fucked his way right out of his scholarship by the end of first semester.

Since he knew he couldn’t stay in school under those circumstances and others, dude enlisted in the Marines. A few days before he left, he had a few friends over to the dorm room, and we spent the whole day smoking until about 6 in the evening. At that point, everybody left, and I was the only one still in the room, smoking the little joint Stu the janitor gave me for hooking him up with this freshman chick. So while I’m still smelling like weed smoke, I get a call from my brother’s ex girlfriend Katrina. She told me she was downstairs in the dorm lobby, and needed to get something that she left up there the last time she stopped by. I got nervous as a hooker in church after I hung up the phone. I just KNEW Katrina was going to say something to my Mom or my Stepfather since she loved the family so much. She’s so cool with my folks, that they still invite her over to every family event to this day, despite the fact that my brother has a child by another woman altogether now. Well, I did everything I could to hide the highness, but I was sweating like an Alabama field slave in July. Katrina didn’t seem to notice, so I guess I pulled it off…But once the highnesss wore off, I thought to myself “Why the fuck was I THAT nervous about them finding out? They know I am a fuckup sometimes. Hell, Grandma found a pack of rubbers in my jacket pocket last week, so the know I’m fucking. Why did I get so nervous?!?!” I could only think of one reason: The weed.

Dry

Getting dry is a bad combination for me. When I say dry, I mean dunk and high. Drunk + high = “dry”

I had to break it down real quick for all the folks who may be reading this while high right now. Moving along…

Yeah, I’ve been at an occasional party or two where there is alcohol and marijuana in large abundance and free…But I have learned to leave the weed alone, especially if I am drinking. I’ve ended up going to some kind of extreme each time I’ve done both in the same night. Once, I went to a party and pulled the phone numbers of the 5 finest women in the building, without any of them knowing I did it. For some reason, I decided to be Don Juan De Marco and be greedy whereas I would have maybe just gone after one, then pulled a backup number just in case first choice doesn’t pan out…Either way, I couldn’t remember much of shit about any of these women other than the way they looked, and I still had trouble figuring out which phone number went with which woman. I was like “Kelly…was that the one with the really nice ass, or the one with the dreads? I know it wasn’t the one with the pretty eyes. That’s Toya…or was that Shelly? SHIT!!!”

The next time I tried that dry shit at a party, I messed around and had to spend the night there cause I was dead tired after the effects wore off. I did not have the energy to WALK to my car, let alone drive.

My very last time getitng “dry”, I got very irritable over some dumb shit. For some reason, I was letting every little pointless thing that wasn’t 100% going my way get on my nerves. Once I got that stuff out my system, I realized that I was just being mean and grumpy for no reason at all. Even the little shit that had me annoyed was of no consequence or concern once things got back to normal with my body chemistry. So that was enough proof for me. No more “dry” nights for Leon.

Alright…so once again, you all know way more about me than you probably should. I trust that you found it entertaining. If not, then fuck you too, bitch.

Happy Tuesday :)

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