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First Pot High

The first time I actually smoked pot was in the summer shortly before school was to start back up. I was thirteen going on 21. A church girl (who incidentally, was the first girl to give me a hicky) brought some pot with her and, along with my brother; the three of us smoked the little ugly twisted stepson of a cigarette. I think we all pretended to feel some kind of a buzz or, at least I pretended. Nothing really hit me as being different, so even though this was my actual first time to smoke pot (it could have been basil for all I know), I’m going to write about the first time I got high.

My family and I had moved about one hundred miles south of where we were all born, or our home town I guess you would call it. We would visit the extended family when we could and this particular weekend was one of those visits. My parents, my sister, my older brother and I all stayed at my grandparents this weekend. We had a cousin who was about five years older than me come by and wanted to take me and my brother out to “meet some of his friends”. That is what he told the parents and grandparents anyway. He really came by too take us to a party…a hippy party.

In my heart I was already a hippy. I just hadn’t done anything to garner the moniker. I had grown my hair out to about the length of a mid-sixties Beatle haircut or maybe even like a Davey Jones kind of cut and I had smoked the church girl’s fake pot. That is how much of a hippy I was. Going to this hippy party was going to finish the initiation. I was ready for some herb, weed, pot, bud, smoke, or whatever else it’s been called over the years.

We arrived with my cousin at the party and found a bunch of longhairs sitting around playing poker. The ones who were not playing were watching the ones who were. There were no girls at this hippy party and it was starting to look like one of my grade school camp outs or something. It was a poker party. I had already done this kind of thing with guys my own age, but it was all new, older and hippyish people so I decided to just enjoy it for what it was.

We weren’t there long before someone pulled out a bag and began to roll a joint. He was very proud of his marijuana and proudly announced that what we were about to smoke was some Acapulco Gold. I thought, how cool, pot from Mexico. He lit the joint and began to pass it around. My brother hit it before me and went into a mad coughing fit. It made me a little leery so when it came to my turn I was going to be cool and hit it slowly. I coughed anyway, but so did some other guys. The effects of this pot were miles away from the church girl’s fake pot. I not only felt its effects almost immediately, there was nothing subtle about them either. I was high.

It’s hard to describe how I suddenly seen a world I was used to dissolve into a place totally unfamiliar to me. I felt like I was underwater except that everything had gotten brighter instead of darker like it is underwater. I swear I could see words coming out of people’s mouths. I ended up hitting it a couple of more times and I finally realized why they call it a buzz. I actually heard a buzz. I looked over at my brother and he looked pale. He told my cousin he wanted to lie down for a bit. My cousin was telling him if you feel sick he should go outside or else in the bathroom. My brother insisted that he was alright; he just had to lie down for a bit. They took him to a bedroom and laid him out on a bed where he promptly threw up over the side onto our host’s carpet.

While my cousin was busy tending to my brother and apologizing to our host in the other room, all eyes fell upon me in the poker area. They were scrutinizing me wondering if I was going to be the next to unload that evening’s burdensome dinner. Lucky for me I didn’t feel sick. I was very high and kind of speechless but at least I didn’t feel sick. I thought I would show them that they had nothing to worry about, so I said, “I’m a little thirsty…can I have a drink of water?” They pointed to the kitchen sink and some cabinets containing glasses above it. It seemed to set their minds at ease and they went back to playing poker.

I walked over to the sink area and reached toward the cabinets. I remember seeing my hand nearing the cabinet handle and then it disappeared into a black starry haze. I was in a dream and I had actually forgotten about the party until I opened my eyes and there was some guys standing over me. I had blacked out and hit the floor. The embarrassment I suffered didn’t seem to come close to what my cousin was feeling. He had had enough of his two younger cousins. He snatched us up and took us back to the grandparents. If he said see you later or something, I don’t remember it. He just dropped us off and sped away into the night.

My brother looked like the undead and I probably didn’t look much better. We entered the grandparent’s house and were confronted with my grandmother and my mother. They both had those mad but worried looks on their faces only mothers can get. Since I was the youngest, all of the questioning went to my older brother. I just kind of stood there watching my grandmothers face as they brow beat my ailing brother. I remember thinking how Grandma’s wrinkles were particularly outstanding on this night. They seemed to be dancing around on her face even though she wasn’t moving. Mom had a red devil-like face that was equally fascinating. I could see bits of saliva coming out of her mouth that looked like little bitty fireballs. As I was looking at this phenomenon, I noticed that they had stopped talking and was now looking at me. Apparently they had asked me a question and now expected me to answer it. Maybe if I had known the question I might have come off better, but what ever I said prompted a roll of the eyes from my brother, some harsh words from my mother, and a genuine look of concern from my grandmother.

We were sent to bed where I laid awake watching all kinds of stationary things dance around to my utter amazement.

Posted by Pauligan on 2008-01-22 05:13:31 | Rating:

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		Lol. I know I got stoned a lot when I was younger but I don't remember exactly what it felt like. I know I got very happy or very paranoid. This experience just sounds dismal. M.J should be fun!
Posted by CynicalSweetheart on 2008-01-22 05:36:04


		You look so innocent too paul. lol Good post.
Posted by scotslad60 on 2008-01-22 16:38:25


		Dismal? I actually thought this was fun, Cynical.
Posted by Pauligan on 2008-01-22 17:01:55


		You know Jim, my problem has always been curiousity and i seem to have always learned the hard way.
Posted by Pauligan on 2008-01-22 17:03:16


		You have learned the hard way paul, but you have still learned. Sometimes the hard way is the only way to learn. Bless you hun,xx
Posted by bubblydi on 2008-01-23 03:38:09


		Personally, I think the hard way is the best way to learn, Lovely Di. It's hands on learning, so to speak.
Posted by Pauligan on 2008-01-23 17:04:51