10. The Green Ones
Laurie and I were never what you might call “partiers”. As a matter of fact, I think she and I probably attended 4 or 5 parties in the entire time we were a couple. We did throw a Halloween party one year, including Laurie’s parents and my mother we had exactly seven people. However, we did attend one particular party that one of my college friends threw. It wasn’t quite your typical college kegger. It was hosted by one of my culinary school friends, but it did have the prerequisite byob feel, complete with seven layer dip, red plastic cups, and extremely “green” chocolate chip cookies.
I had two older sisters that were teenagers in the seventies. So I was no marijuana virgin. In fact, since I had two older sisters that grew up in the seventies, I really didn’t have much interest in the demon weed during my formative years. Yes, I had tried it with my older sister when I was around 13. She had been trying to get me to try it since I was around 10 or 11, even teaching me how to clean out the seeds from the most likely dirt cheap junk she could afford. As it goes with all such experiments, it was a very bad trip. It started out pretty much as you’d expect. Lots of giggling that morphs into outright hysterics until my sister was afraid I would wake my mother up who was sleeping across the hall. Of course, it went from hysterical laughter to hysterical paranoia in a heartbeat. We were watching a late night movie in my room on an old portable TV I had. I really can’t remember what movie it was, but of course it became super funny in our minds. The next thing you know I was sobbing uncontrollably. I was positive that it wasn’t just marijuana. I couldn’t remember what was happening from one moment to the next. It must have been laced with acid or PCP!
I don’t remember how long it took her to get me to settle down. I think I must have scared the crap out of her because I wanted to go wake my mother up to take me to the hospital. Of course she had been down this road herself, so she just insisted I lay down and go to sleep, and of course I was asleep or passed out within a few minutes. I don’t remember trying it again while I lived with my sister. It just really wasn’t my thing. It wasn’t that I was a “goody-two-shoes”, as my sisters both thought, I just didn’t feel the need to rebel in the ways they did. I was fine getting decent grades, reading science fiction and comic books, and hanging out with my mother and her friends…actually, I guess I was pretty much the definition of a goody-two-shoes. But hey, it worked for me.
So fast-forward a few years, and there I was with Laurie at a college party, surrounded by college age kids, most likely very much like my two older sisters had been at that age, and there were the “green” cookies. And believe me, they were extremely green. They were so green that even my very naive “goody-two-shoes” girlfriend instantly recognized them for what they were. And boy was she intrigued.
She wanted to try them right on the spot. “Can we?”, she asked. In the innocent way that only a pure novice can. “No,” I said, “at least not here. But I’ll tell you what, we’ll take some home with us and try them someplace a little safer.” I had seen my sisters and their friends getting high often enough to realize what a problem it could create at this sort of party. We were having a good enough time, but it just didn’t feel like the sort of place to have her experiment. So we wrapped a few of the clay pigeon sized herbal delights up in a napkin, and stuffed them in her purse. We then went back to the party and hung out for a few more hours. We would have been among the first people to leave; as I said, we really weren’t the party type.
So there we were a few hours later, sitting in the apartment I shared with my mother (who just happened to be gone on a business trip for the weekend), breaking out the cookies. They were so dense and herbal-y that you had to choke them down as fast as you could with a large gulp of milk. I mean, after all, chocolate chip cookies have to be eaten with milk, right?
She wanted to eat a whole cookie, again in the naive way that only a pure pot virgin would try. I told her to slow down a bit. After all, if you’ve never tried it before, it’s gonna hit you like a Mac truck I warned her. So we started with just a few bites, and sat down to watch a movie. After about 5 minutes she was positive that there was something wrong with them. Nothing was happening, she claimed, and so she took a few more bites. Before I knew it she had eaten a whole cookie. Predictably, after a few more minutes, it started to have the desired effect. It happened slowly, but I could tell she was starting to get a little silly and giddy.
Interestingly, I don’t remember her getting to the hysterically funny stage I remember so well from my first time. I remember her going straight from giggly, laughing at the movie, the dig, whatever, to paranoid with no stop in between, and when she went paranoid it was all out “Oh My God I’m Dying!”
Before I knew it she was crying hysterically and babbling that there HAD to be LSD in the cookies! After all she reasoned, we had no idea who made them. We had never even asked. No matter how I assured her that it was perfectly normal to become a little freaked out, she just couldn’t calm down.
Of course I did what every cohort of the first time freak out does, I put her to bed, and luckily she fell asleep pretty fast. But that wasn’t the end by a long shot! Oh no, because she hadn’t just smoked a little, she had eaten a lot!
Every hour for the next 7 or 8 hours of the night she would wake up and begin wailing. “We need to go to the hospital!” she would demand, and I would have to talk her down and coax her back to sleep. Since it wouldn’t leave her system nearly as quickly as merely smoking it, it went on interminably. She almost had me convinced that we should call 911 at one point. Thank goodness eventually the night ended.
With the morning came a little bit of piece. Laurie had calmed quite a bit, and sheepishly admitted that she had overreacted, but unfortunately, she had to head back to school, with her college friend who had carpooled with her. I had to head to school myself, so we didn’t have much time to talk, but from what she told me I gather she didn’t feel quite right for most of the day. She had to have her friend drive her home. We never tried the green stuff again.