Wednesday, November 09, 2011
My first time hosting the pot party
My first seriously intense boyfriend (yes, that does mean sex -- no, he was not my first) was a major weed head. I will call him Bruce here. He was great looking which is always a plus (ask any high schooler). He was also an athlete. At least when we started dating. He got kicked off the baseball team in the spring when the coach found out he was smoking pot.
That was fine with me. I really wasn't into the jock type and he was the first one I had really ever done more than fool around with. (As Toni likes to say of me, "She lost her virginity to a bass player -- so you know it was love!" Toni's little dig at bass players as opposed to axe men.) And one day we were over at his place while his parents were gone for a series of days. We were going to have some friends over. We were going to have pizza rolls and other 'elegant' food. (That's sarcasm. It's just whatever teenagers munched on at the time but we thought we were putting together the spread to end all spreads.)
So he's crushing the ice for me and I'm fussing around the kitchen and have already burned my thumb on the cookie sheet I'm cooking the pizza rolls on when the phone rings and it's his fifth grade sister who is at a friend's home and now needs to come home due to some sort of verbal fight with her friend. So he up and leaves promising to be back but everyone starts arriving within minutes of his leaving.
And because they are our friends, they want th epot that they just know Bruce has somewhere in the house. And one of the boys is going to rip the house apart to find it.
I know where it is and the rolling papers so I get up and go get it feeling very put upon. Hello, I have pizza rolls and french onion dip! (I really did feel like we'd put on a spread. There were also olivies and crackers with the spray cheese on them.)
So I grab the bag of weed, the rolling papers and go back into the living room. And I've never rolled a joint in my life at this point. I've smoked many but never rolled. So we end up with this really thick joint. And because I want to be a good hostess, I don't stop there. I roll up more so that all guests can have one.
So we're all lit except for me, I'm rolling mine right at that moment, I hear the front door open and at last Bruce's home. So I plop my joint in between my lips, spark up and say, "Let me have one drag and then it's yours."
I say that looking up . . . at Bruce's parents.
They're sort of slack-jawed staring at me. And the room is frozen. Finally, I shrug and lift the tray of pizza rolls off the coffee table, "Well maybe you'd prefer a snack first?"
I still laugh at that story.
I wasn't real big on hiding what I did or playing the weasel when caught. But even for me, that was a big deal and I always see as my first grown up party and a very grown up moment.
Closing with C.I.'s "Iraq snapshot:"