And I didn’t even turn into a junkie
I’d Never Rolled a Joint
So, like any self-reliant and educated middle-aged mom would do, I turned to YouTube. After going through a few videos, I found one I liked and set to work.
I’d already stolen (well, taken, I paid for it) weed from my son’s stash along with rolling papers and then waited for the chance to organize rolling it.
I followed the same process I do when I’m cooking a new recipe.
The only difference is they know to stay out of my way when I’m in the kitchen. I can be “unkind” to interlopers when I’m working.
My other problem is I am Nancy Reagan’s “Just Say No!” poster child. As such, I couldn’t exactly be rolling “the joint” while demanding room and bitching at people, could I? No.
I have an image to maintain.
I wasn’t sure how to use his grinder and didn’t want to leave evidence, so I left it alone. I looked for alternate methods to prepare the buds and found I could use scissors. I had a hard time with the smell as I cut it.
I Hate That Smell
Once I had a little pile, got my first paper and followed the video, but had a hard time shaping it, so started again. I have standards and like things just so.
I’ve never smoked anything. I faked it a few times at a bar when I was young and we could do that, but the dead lung feeling mixed with a hangover was too much for me.
As for smoking pot? I’d only done it a couple of times thirty years ago as a kid, but I was drinking, so I’m not sure what it did to me.
My lover had agreed to smoke with me, and we were both looking forward to it.
Because I don’t always follow my advice, my lover spent the night at my place. I was alone for the weekend and thought, why not? We’d just moved in, none of the neighbors knew us and wouldn’t recognize his Bimmer.
Pro Tip — Don’t have your lover over to your house. People notice. There are only a few times you can get away with it, and that’s after dark and when you’re newly moved in. If you do it in the winter, for the love of god, don’t forget their footprints in the snow. And never see them out the door, they need to look like a house sitter, not your other spouse.
Once “the joint” was rolled, I put it in a plastic bag and hid it in my purse. When I cook or bake something new, I like to take pictures of the process and put it on Facebook. I usually like to poke fun at myself to counterbalance those pretentious friends we all have.
So I was a little sad I didn’t get to chronicle rolling “the joint” — such a lost opportunity.
And before you clutch your pearls, possession and personal use of “the marijuana” is legal in our jurisdiction.
I made dinner for my lover and we relaxed after our long week. It was one of those rare occasions where we don’t have to get naked right away so it really was a treat.
“So, do you want to try it?” The sun had gone down, so the balcony overlooking the street was in darkness.
“Sure, let’s go!” I’m not sure if he was eager or just humoring me. He said he used some coke in his early twenties, but only a little and had only ever pretended to smoke pot.
Lighting the “the joint” and drawing in, my coughing fit came immediately so I passed it to my lover. He didn’t draw as deeply but coughed too.
And so, like extras in a Cheech and Chong movie, we finished “the joint” by turns punctuated by coughing fits, hiding on my balcony. But god, did we laugh.
Are We There Yet?
“Do you feel anything? I don’t feel anything.” I asked as we headed to the bedroom.
“No, not yet.” He chuckled.
Laying down, we began to kiss deeply before moving to oral things.
“My body is starting to feel warm and tingle all over.” He didn’t reply. His mouth was full.
Climbing back up beside me, he began to talk, but became emotional and a little weepy. It was cute, but I have no idea what it was about.
“Are you ok? Are you starting to feel it?” I asked.
“No, I don’t think so. I’m ok. I just don’t know why I feel like this.”
“Hmmm, I might know…” I softly laughed, leaning in for a kiss.
“You taste of me,” I told him as our lips parted, guiding him into me. I rode him to completion and then fell asleep in his arms.
It Was Fun
So that was it: a warm tingly body that felt nice and a soppy but cute boyfriend.
Our son has tried to get us to smoke pot with him “just to try it” as he says. I’m firmly anti-fun in many ways and weed is one of them. I told hub that I might be interested in trying it, but not with our son. I would never let him have anything like that over me.
But when you’re living your best double life, it’s nice to be someone else for a while.
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Teresa J. Conway © 2020
By Teresa J Conway on .
Exported from Medium on March 4, 2021.