I never had a problem with people smoking weed. My friends smoke all the time, my roommate smokes in the room, and I have been around it for years. It just never really took my fancy. But when David invited me to come over to his friend Ryan’s house to get high one boring freshman Friday night, I said, “Why the hell not?” I figured it beat sitting on my rock-hard dorm room couch scrolling through terrible movies on Netflix with my hands down my pants.
David and I met up and he drove me over to Ryan’s house. I thought we were driving to some shitty college house when my friend turned his Tahoe into the long U-shaped drive of the biggest house I’d ever seen from inside the gates. Turns out we went to this guy’s childhood home which is 5 minutes from campus. We were met at the door by Ryan’s mother, and she escorted us through her giant maze of a home to the cabana by the pool in the back where there were 6 guys around a big table passing around a joint. I took a hit every time it was passed to me, doing my best not to reveal the fact that I was a greenhorn cannabis user. I decided to call it quits after the J went from a thicc fucker to a roach to nothingness. I figured it was my first time; I didn’t need to make a fool of myself. Next thing I knew, the bong was getting passed around. When it got to me I wasn’t feeling much, so I gave it a shot…
The Frozen Stage
Before I knew it, I was frozen; the “weeDUH” (Stephen A. voice) hit me like my abusive father. I was just intently focused on staring at one spot on the wall; my eyes were locked on, and for some reason I could not move. I thought my body had become one with the chair I was slouched in, and I was clenching the wrought iron armrests as if I would fall into the chair if I let go.
The Sweat Stage
This stage is pretty self-explanatory. My shirt was soaked, my breathing intensified, and beads of sweat rolled down my face. This stage is also where the guys started to realize how fucked up I was. Not that they cared for my well being or anything; they just found it amusing. Meanwhile, I didn’t know if I was going to make it out of that mansion alive.
The Nausea Stage
My tolerance was more embarrassing than Tim Tebow’s baseball career. Once the world started to spin, I broke my bond with the chair, stumbled out into the yard, and lifelessly flopped onto the grass (which was softer than the patented interlocking fill of Mike Lindell’s MyPillow®). Shortly after, regurgitations began profusely spewing from my mouth. David came out to check on me after about three hours, except I asked him how long I had been lying there and he told me it had been 8 minutes. I laughed. It hurt.
The Hallucination Stage
I opened my eyes briefly after David left and I swear to the lord almighty that I saw a bright white glowing fox scurry across Ryan’s beautifully-manicured lawn.
The Shivering Stage
I don’t know why I was shivering. It was hot as hell. Have you ever shivered while you were hot? Neither had I until this instance. It’s fuckin’ wack as fuck.
The Nausea Stage II
David came out a second time. He told me it was time to go inside because I had been lying on the wet lawn for an hour and a half. I reluctantly agreed, saying goodbye to the lush grass as I got up. David was carrying me as the world, once more, began to spin, and the regurgitations, once more, were expelled from my body. “Fuck that, you’re staying out here,” David exclaimed as he dumped my inert corpse back onto the MyPillow® lawn. He didn’t come back for another hour and a half.
The Jaw-Clenching Stage
My jaw was clenched as tight as possible and it felt like it lasted forever. The next morning, my jaw muscles felt like I’d spent hours chewing 8 gumballs at once.
The Twitching Stage
My body started twitching. Sometimes everywhere all at once, sometimes individual muscles. I bet it looked like I was having a seizure, and for all I know I might have been. I was conscious for the duration, however, so I wasn’t that worried. I don’t know how long it lasted, but like everything else, it felt like a lifetime.
The guys came to check on me later and David said I had been out there on the grass for three (actual) hours. They pried me from the wonderful, soft grass and plopped me into David’s car. He drove me back to my dorm where I laid down on the couch that didn’t feel quite so hard anymore. I ate an entire 15-serving jar of trail mix and slept like a baby..
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