I finally understood the hype



My phone dinged, notifying me that someone had just texted me; it was a friend from back in my junior high days. He had invited me to a party about two months back. I had horrible time and I suppose this message was supposed to make up for it.

The text was a photo of a small baggy filled with something that resembled tiny tumbleweeds. I guess that I was half right, because the message that followed was an invitation to “come over.” An hour later I was over in Brookside, highly anticipating the first time that I would ever smoke pot.

After running into a couple complications—not having a lighter, going to buy a lighter, getting kicked out of the gas station for attempting to buy a lighter — the plan was in motion. We met up with some homies who had an isolated spot picked out to do the deed, and we made our move.

We didn’t have any papers, but my friend’s brother, who I will refer to as V, had an apple. V poked two holes in the apple, one where the stem was and one in the side of the apple, and the friend who invited me, who I will refer to as D, was the first to test if our little experiment would work.

The apple eventually came to me. I took the lighter in my hand and sparked up the hole we had shoved the pot in. There’s a certain way you have to breath, a certain way to get the smoke to burn the back of your throat, a pain that I have grown to enjoy.

Twenty minutes passed after we smoked the whole apple-made bowl, and the only thing that I was feeling was tired. The boys and I had enough time to walk back to D’s house and microwave six pieces of pizza when something finally happened.

We were listening to some Schoolboy Q, and as the song played, Schoolboy’s verse got longer, the five minutes and 14 seconds of the song began to lengthen. My body got heavier, and my friends’ conversations started to reveal a sense of humor that only I, at the moment, found funny.

The four of us mellowed out on the couch, watching Naruto Shippuden for the next three hours; then at one point I fell asleep. The next day I went home. My shirt smelled like weed but no one seemed to notice, and I decided that I would just go take a nap. In my bed, all I thought about was the night before and the new world of illicit drugs that had just been introduced to me.

It felt eye-opening to put my curiosities to bed. I now understood the hype behind marijuana.

I felt almost relieved that I was getting this wonder off of my chest. Smoking weed made me want to be more explorative in the world of drugs.
The subject of recreational drug use shouldn’t be something that is looked down upon or something that is feared. We all have our curiosities, and we shouldn’t be ashamed of them.