I have tried so many times to have a good time using cannabis and it just doesn't work.
"You probably had too much"
"You just weren't with the right people, I bet."
"You just weren't feeling the right vibes."
"I don't fucking care, I don't know you, please let me eat my breakfast."
The last quote was from the stranger I sat with while waiting for my coffee at Starbucks. He didn't like me. He also was eating a croissant with ketchup on it... so I think we all know he kind of sucks.
Am I crazy to just say I think some of us just... don't like it? Why does everyone have to tell me that I "did it wrong" if I don't like cannabis? I don't tell people they "probably just weren't feeling the vibe" when they tell me they don't like Breaking Bad, I say "honestly, I really don't see the hype either, and you're probably better off." Yeah, I said it. Breaking Bad is boring. Weed isn't that fun. Sue me.
Please don't sue me, you're gonna mess up this whole being a writer thing.
The last time I thought I would just be super cool and try to make cannabis fun, I was at my mom and dad's house for my 26th birthday. We had dinner, my son was put down to bed, and I had the evening to have fun, let loose, party, do adult things!... but I didn't really feel like having a drink. There's so much pressure when your kids go to bed (and you have other people around to care for them) to do all the things you wish you could still do whenever you wanted, but in the small window you have before it's back to parent life. Except you're so tired from being a parent, you mostly want to use any downtime you have to just sleep or watch a TV show uninterrupted or maybe even just pee by yourself
My parents had ordered some CBD-only gummies to try for sleep and pain and whatnot, and had ended up with some that had THC in them. I had dabbled with low dose edibles before, and even though I had never had a good time, I decided this was the time to try again. I had to do something crazy in the 4 hours I had before my body would no longer allow me to be awake. Good people, good vibes, won't have too much, all the stoner boxes were checked and I was going to have a damn good time. I was basically Tommy Chong. Or was I Cheech. Does Cheech have a first name or is he like Cher or Madonna? What a little weed diva. In that case, I am Cheech.
So little miss Cheech takes one of these gummies with THC and starts chewing away. I swallowed and looked over to the living room to see my younger sister, wide-eyed.
"Did you just eat one of those gummies?"
"Yeah, of course I did. So what? It's the vibe, dude. Ride the wave, bro." I said, like the cool stoner I was.
"Hannah those are 25 milligrams each."
"Yeah it's whatever man, I've had them before." I shrugged her off like I would now shrug off wearing anything other than ponchos.
"No, you've had 5 milligrams at a time, like, maximum. This is literally 5 times more strong. That was way too much."
I paused and looked back at the bag of edibles. She was totally right. I just ate way too much. For some reason, I had thought the entire bag was 25 milligrams and was in such a rush to be a cool guy that I just ate one. But if I panic I'll have a bad time. Maybe if I'm really confident it won't mess me up as much. I'll just keep telling myself I'm not that high. It'll be fine.
I went to sit by my sister and resume the evening as usual. My whole family seemed to be looking at me waiting for the entertainment to start but nothing was happening. I thought to myself, "maybe nothing will happen! I'm Cheech! That was like, standing 10 feet away from a lit joint for me!"
I was wrong.
Suddenly I found myself laying down on the couch counting the divots in the popcorn ceiling and playing pattycake with mine and my sister's feet. Then I wondered why no one thought the foot pattycake thing was weird. I asked my sister, "why are we doing this with our feet?" but she ignored me. Was I just imagining foot pattycake? Okay, I need to sit up. Nope, that feels worse, lay back down. But my sister is also laying down on the other side of the couch, so where can I put my feet? Ah, I'll put them on her feet. Now our feet are in the air. WAIT THIS IS THE PATTYCAKE SHIT ALL OVER AGAIN I GOTTA GET OUT OF HERE.
Okay, I am waaaaay too high. I am going to get a glass of water and go downstairs to bed. Mom has the baby monitor and will deal with my son, I'm going to go downstairs and put on a TV show and go to bed. I'm fine. It's only 8pm? That's fine. I'm tired. No really. Why does glass feel so smooth? Does the water always come out of the fridge this fast? Holy shit I need to go lay down. Wait, have I said anything to my family this whole time?
"I think I need to go to bed. So I'm going to go down there with this water."
"....okay honey, goodnight."
Wait, are they laughing at me? I whipped my head to look at absolutely no one laughing at me. They must have stopped laughing just so I didn't see. Oh god. They know I'm too high. I have to go.
I laid in the dark spare room. I texted my husband that I was too high and probably going to die, so he may have to come home from work to attend my funeral. Here lies the fake-ass flower child who thought she was so earthy with her alchemic symbol tattoos and her casual edibles. May she find the peace she never found smoking weed. My husband was already asleep for his shift in the morning, so I texted my mom upstairs while I laid in the spare room.
To this day, my family will laugh uncontrollably if you ask them about the string of texts I sent to my mom on that night. It was something like,
H: Mom, am I okay?
M: Yes of course you are.
H: what if my son knows I got high
M: he won't... he's 7 months old and asleep. Also, we are here to watch him for you. I can take the baby monitor so you can sleep.
H: Okay but like, have I ever been like this?
H: Yeah. Like, has it ever been this bad?
M: I'm not sure, honey.
H: Why aren't you sure? Are you worried I'm going to die?
H: Like when you worked in the emergency room did anyone ever come in who was this high?
M: No, because that isn't an emergency.
H: This isn't a medical emergency?
M: No, honey. Go to sleep.
I woke up the next morning exhausted, anxious, and a little embarrassed. I felt like a bad mom. I felt like I owed Tommy Chong an apology. I mostly felt like trying to enjoy weed was something I should probably stop investing time into. I can be earthy and not smoke pot. I only eat organic vegetables and I don't buy paper towels or plastic wrap.
So, for all the stoner non-believers who think that cannabis is always a good time if you "do it right", here you have it. Besides the dose being a bit high, I did all the things I was "supposed to" to have a good time, and it still sucked. Just like Breaking Bad.
And because I'm already losing my stoner audience I may as well put it out there:
cool ranch doritos are like, the worst kind of doritos.