I had this fear for years, ever since the tender days of my teenaged youth. Marijuana, I was told, was the devil. In this I heartily agreed, but a lack of actual experience on my part brought on the inevitable curiosity. I decided to try it for myself, to gain empirical proof that marijuana was, in fact, the devil. Turns out it really wasn’t. The first time I tried it, I hung out with my friend, sitting against the outer wall of a nearby church, and giggling about who knows what.
The second time I tried it (and every attempt thereafter), I found myself beset with an overwhelming paranoia. I existed, it seemed, in a kind of dream state, wherein sensations were altered in subtle ways. The end result was a horrifying one. I ran home, cried, confessed everything to my parents, and slept it off.
Not so, last night! I bought some from a friend of mine, squirreled it away inside an iPhone box beside my Xbox, and waited for my wife to get home. She knows more than I do about pot, since she’s basically been able to smoke it without losing her mind. That makes her an expert in my eyes. I tried some, totally ready to flip my proverbial (and possibly literal) shit, but it didn’t happen. In fact, it was rather enjoyable.
Here’s the thing.
I was never really against smoking pot in the strictest sense of the word. I just knew (or thought) that I didn’t react favorably upon smoking it. My body’s chemistry, I assumed, was such that even the tiniest amount of weed would send me into a paranoid frenzy. I have since concluded that, on those occasions, I simply smoked too much of it. Moderation, it seemed, was to be the word of the evening.
I got stoned, after taking only two “tokes” (I still prefer the term “puffs”, but it makes me sound like a n00b), and enjoyed it immensely. I was in control of myself, motor functions were behaving as expected, and I couldn’t stop giggling. Also, my mouth got so dry. I was eating sushi and it became a chore.
After my high wore off (and it did, disappointingly quickly) I just drank beer until I fell asleep on the chair, at which point I was escorted into the bedroom by my wife. I passed out.
I might try some more tonight, but I could just as easily drink the rest of the beer in my fridge instead. I guess we’ll see.
Oh, one more thing.
I think I want to be a dad. I’m gonna get on that.