Cannabis Chronicle 14: High School High

She rolled the ugliest joint I have ever seen in my life.
A

t my high school having a half-day schedule your senior year was the golden ticket. The only requirement for a shortened schedule was  that you had a certain GPA and that you had met most of the requirements needed for graduation. I always excelled in school, so ya’ girl was something like Charlie Bucket.

Unfortunately, some of the most loyal members of my smoke squad were still “Enslaved by the Bell”. I had an after-school gig that started at 3:00, so time was of the essence when I needed to get a pre-work joint in. We had our routine pretty down pact. Head to the park, roll up, sesh, hit Mickey Ds and then I dropped anyone who still had class back at school before heading to work. My homegirl had a late lunch period so if we played our cards right, she would be back in time for her afternoon class. Or at least half of it.

We had just pulled in to our spot and pulled out our “tools” – a Dutch Master and a razor blade. *Tiffany sliced the blunt, and then we heard the crack of doom. The Dutch was stale and literally crumbled to pieces in her hands.

This was devastating for multiple reasons. We were too young to purchase tobacco products, so buying another blunt was no simple task. Unfortunately, my stoner crew was pretty known by every local gas station and 7-11 within a 5-mile radius. Sometimes the cashier would let us slide, but other times we would get carded. And the fact that it was the middle of the afternoon and half of us were supposed to be at school was a whole other issue.

We decided to send Tiffany in. She looked the oldest out of all of us so we figured that she was our best shot. We told her to go in and be cool like she was a smooth 25-year-old. We were in the parking lot coaching her like she was McLovin going in for booze. We parked in the back of the gas station so no one would notice our young, dumb selves in the parking lot and throw off the plan.

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About two minutes later Tiffany walked out with a look of defeat on her face. She had been carded. Shit! We were running out of time and ideas. I had about 30 minutes left so I threw in the towel. “Fuck it. I can get my co-worker to grab a roll up for me at work and we can chief after I get off if you want, son.”

Tiffany wasn’t having it. Maybe it’s because her mom was strict as hell and she knew this was her only opportunity to smoke before she had to go come home and deal with her momma. Or maybe going to art class sober was just unacceptable. I don’t know what sparked her innovation, but she came up with a solution. A dumb solution, but a solution nonetheless.

She grabbed her backpack and started digging. I assumed she was looking for her student badge since we had to head back to school soon, so when she pulled out a piece of printer paper I was beyond confused. “Let’s just roll up with this. Paper is paper, right? If we just hit it a few times that’s better than nothing, son.”

I knew this was a bad idea, but at that moment my better judgment was lost. I had made pretty decent bongs from random items like foil, a soda bottle, and straw before so maybe Tiffany was on to something. Her rationale did kind of make sense. I mean, it worked in “How High” right?

She rolled the ugliest joint I have ever seen in my life. She sparks it and the joint burns up like one of those sparkly lil’ things that you hold on the 4th of July. It was like she lit the wick of a dynamite stick. We desperately tried to hit the pitiful joint as fast as we could, but it quickly vanished.

I felt like a damn crackhead.

It was quiet for a few seconds while we processed what had just happened. Our plan had literally vanished before our eyes. On top of the sudden and unfortunate loss of our near and dear cannabis, we were broke. I worked at Target for Christ’s sake. There was no way we could just go buy more weed. That would require another strategy plan and we clearly were not strategists.

We took the L. I drooped Tiffany back off at school and took my barely-buzzed ass to work.

I’ve mentioned before that I gave up smoking blunts a few years ago. I try to avoid smoking anything artificial or containing chemicals. That’s why nostalgic stories like this crack me up. I have legit gone from Hewlett-Packard to hemp, bruh.

In Reefer We Trust,

Reeferella

Smoking and something hilarious happened? Tell us.  Want to share your cannabis chronicle like the one you just read? Sure.  Just want to go on a Kanye rant about why cannabis isn’t being accepted into society? Rant on, Ye’. Hit us up at info@reeferella.com. All submissions can be posted anonymously.

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