I
had heard lots about drugs and liked to pretend a little knowledge
about all things worldly drugs included but I had actually never seen
anyone use drugs or had even seen and drugs at all. That all ended
one afternoon when we went to an older kids house with my sister's
boyfriend and some of his friends to buy a bike. We went down to this
kid's basement lair in his mom's house and the smell of marijuana and
patchouli was suffocating. I was not at all comfortable because everyone raised
on the Nancy Reagan drug horror stories of the eighties knows the
refer-addict is always moments away from killing or raping in a
psychotic drug induced rage. After the initial shock of seeing drugs
and drug paraphernalia I relaxed a little because this guy didn't
seem dangerous he seemed like a goofy fun guy with a strange sense of
humor. The bike was bought and payed for and the breeze was shot and
then as is the case I would later learn with many other pot heads, is
that when he started hankering for a little re-up on the high and as
a gracious host, he offered some to all of us, if we would chip in.
This is not how I had always heard that druggies get you to join in –
the first one is always free. Maybe this dude didn't know how to get
new recruits. I later found out that only hot girls are assured of
freebies. I am not a hot girl, I didn't want any, and I didn't have
any money anyway so I was able to just say no, thanks. I guess Nancy
Reagan and the inside flaps of Lemon Head and Boston Baked Bean candy
boxes would be sort of proud. By some crazy twist of fate this same
kid, now a man, was later at my cousin-in-law's wedding outside
smoking weed with the boys with a bearing and affect basically
indistinguishable from 16 year before in his mom's basement. Maybe
weed makes you forever young.
