Everybody Must Get Stoned

It all happened quite innocently.  Really.  I was lamenting the fact that I don't like to drink anymore to my friend D.  I have had so much on my mind these days and really wanted the release of being drunk and not worrying about everything for just a short time.  It's not so much to ask is it?  So as D and I were talking I said how great it would be to get stoned again, just once, for that release I have been craving.  It's been about 23 years since the last time I got stoned, at least, if not more.

So, how does one even go about getting weed these days?  How much does it cost?  Who do you ask?  Neither of us knew.  But since I live in the 'hood, it was a pretty likely bet that, if actually looking, I'd be able to find it pretty easily.  But was I willing to do that?  This is something, one of the very few things, like the only thing, I planned on keeping from Husband.  He's just not down with the doob.  My getting high many many years ago was the reason for one of the biggest fights we ever had.  So not wanting to relive that, I just decided to keep mum about it.  It's only going to be once.  And after consulting with people who know us both well, my decision proved to be the correct one because everyone else agreed it was a good idea not to tell him.  Granted, I probably will, eventually, but sometime in the future. 

D decided to bring our friend C in on our plan.  Little did we know C would be our answer to doobage bliss.  It was less than a week after I initially mentioned this crazy idea to D when, while at a party together, D and C found a contact who provided them with two free doobs.  You know what they always say, the first are free and then after they reel you in, they suck you dry!  Well that wasn't going to happen.  We just all were having a hard time with things and all needed to unwind, laugh and just be stupid.

Now, where to have our little ganja party was the next hurdle.  I suggested my place since the scent is almost always in the air around here and no one would notice.  But they worried about Husband finding out so C suggested her place.  She lives in the country, the houses are further apart and we could just sit in her back yard and smoke to our hearts content without another soul knowing.  It's on!  And we weren't wasting any time, we made our doobie date for the very next Monday.  Knowing what we know about the effects, we decided snacks were in order.   D made a pepperoni and cheesey appetizery yummy thing and I, of course, made brownies.  What else do you bring to a doob party?

D Day has arrived and these three 44 year old women, high school friends... all married and none of us telling our husbands, met up at C's and went outside to spark that baby up.  We laughed about how we all used to have a feather roach clip in our youth, but wore them in our hair and didn't use them for what they were really for!   Let the smoking commence.  C lit up the first one and took the first drag and then we passed it around the table until it was just a wee little tip.

I got so dizzy I remember sitting in my chair, my hands on the sides of my head and thinking, "don't move your head, don't move your head" but I'm pretty sure I never said it out loud.   I felt dizzy, hungry, really tired and more horny then usual.  But did I feel good?  Not really.  Did we laugh and forget our troubles?  Nope.  We plotted the death of a cricket that seems to be constantly making noise in C's yard.  And I suggested we all take turns on C's riding mower and ride around the backyards.  But alas, we didn't kill the cricket or ride the mower.  And we were all so done after the first joint.  Why did I think this was a good idea?   Damn, I just wanted to forget about it all, even if it was just for an hour.  I remember the old days and whenever I got stoned back then I laughed and laughed so hard I couldn't breathe.  This time?  Meh, not really.

Are we too old?  Too jaded? Too many troubles to forget?  Do we need to try again and make sure?  Hell C has another doob just sitting in her silverware drawer waiting to be toked.  I wonder if I stopped by and asked to borrow a fork if she'd catch my meaning?