DISCLAIMER: This is fictional story. It is an instalment of a series of fictional stories involving drug use as a central plot theme. Reader discretion is advised. The provision of this story over the Internet, or through any other means of communication, is not to be interpreted as a suggestion or recommendation to use drugs. The reader assumes any and all responsibilities derived from his or her actions. 2008 06 26, Recalling My First Dance With Mary Jane, by George Bookman I first got interested in the idea of drug use, particularly marijuana and acid, back in high school. I made the decision, however, not to try anything until I was settled in college. I don’t regret my decision to wait. When I finally decided to give marijuana a try, I discovered to my disappointment no effect. In fact, it took no less than four tries (each on a separate occasion) to experience the effects. The first time I tried, it was with a girl I didn't know very well. I recall that I did not breathe in too much, which might have been a reason for the lack of effects. I recall wanting to play it safe, to ensure I didn’t get too stoned in case I did not enjoy the results. But, I ended up feeling nothing at all. My subsequent failures came over the course of months. Both my second and third attempts were in the presence of a friend named Kurt Russell (no relation to the famous actor of the same name). My fourth attempt, also in the presence of Kurt, was a success. And, it occurred on the twentieth of April, 2006. The short-term memory loss that occurs during the high was quite profound. I found myself talking to people, and forgetting halfway through my sentence the point to which I was trying to get. With a little bit of effort, however, I was able to get through my entire point. One point I had tried to make while talking to Kurt’s girlfriend was that tying jury duty to voting privilege would likely discourage libertarians from even registering, let alone voting, since libertarians are not prone to liking being told what to do. (Indeed, most libertarians would like to do away with compulsory jury duty.) I should probably note that, on this day, we not only ate special brownies (which I recall being extremely scrumptious, despite being fully ‘sober’ at the time of consumption), but likewise smoked, both from a bowl and from a bong. I found the bong was easier on my throat than the bowl. At one point, I found myself writing a haiku. It was nothing special. At another point, I found myself staring at the wall. I wasn’t really thinking anything special, but there was the white wall next to me, and my eyes happened to be upon it. Suddenly, one of the girls to my right says my name, and asks me what we were talking about. I was, at this point, confused. I did not recall having talked to them any time soon. Had I been talking to (or listening to) them and, for no reason, turned away and started staring at the wall? Or, were they mistaken at how recently they had been talking to me? I realised at that point that I did not know how I had come to be staring at the wall in the first place. Being scientifically curious about the effects of drugs, I tried to delve into thought about that; but, I came to no avail, as I could not remember at any point actually turning to the wall. To this day, it remains a mystery. Regardless, I did not recall any conversation in particular with these girls. Another thing I found curious about the drug was that it made mediocre music sound good. At the risk of pissing off or alienating my readers, let me say this in the nicest way possible: I tend to think Led Zeppelin is overrated. Don’t stone me just yet! I don’t hate Led Zeppelin or Pink Floyd. And, I’m sure I like certain bands that you don’t. And that’s fine. My point isn’t to bash Zeppelin or Floyd, but simply to point out that whereas I’m not a huge fan of theirs, I did find the music very enjoyable while high. Music is not the only thing that got better while stoned. Food, too, seemed all the more delicious. At a certain point, a bunch of us leave the apartment to go acquire foodstuff. We walked to a food-provider on campus, and I found the experience of being high in public surprisingly easy to handle. I recall someone ordering some ’shrooms that day, and seeing said ’shrooms delivered to the purchaser as a pizza would be delivered. I questioned my companions what ’shrooms were like (I already had heard some things), but they recommended that I not try them just yet. The final point I feel I must stress is that my lasting impression of the drug is that it was on the level of alcohol. The differences would be that whereas alcohol has given me a hangover, marijuana never has; whereas alcohol has caused me to throw up, marijuana never has; whereas alcohol had me singing loudly, the effects of marijuana are more subdued and relaxing. Marijuana also made me for forgetful while under its influence than alcohol did, but both make concentration difficult, and I would not recommend to anybody that they try to operate heavy machinery under the influence of either. Another similarity is that neither left me with cravings or any sort of addiction. • The above story is entirely fictional. Any similarity to real persons is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. •