I was in college. That in itself was a miracle because I was the worst student on the planet. I spent all of my pre-college life trying to get out of school. But that’s another story.
So I’m studying for exams and the door bell rings and it’s my friend Tommy. Tommy used to be my closest friend, but I lost him to heroin. Now he hung out with the cool crowd, and he was too cool for me.
Tommy and his friend Scotty ask me if they can use my parent’s oven to dry a pound of pot.
Now this is way out of my league at the time and I don’t even understand what or why the need to do this. But as a stupid teenager, I don’t want to look uncool, so I say sure...
While the marijuana is heating in my parents oven, Tommy an Scotty, one at a time, need to use my bathroom. Now noone needs to take 15 minutes in the bathroom, unless they are sick, or getting off on heroin. Both of them took much longer, and when I started to smell smoke, I realized the pot was on fire in my parent’s oven! And when I opened the oven door, a huge billow of pot smoke filled my parent’s apartment.
This is the kind of crazy shit that happens when your stupid friends do drugs.
I kicked them out of my house and opened all the windows hoping that the smell would be gone before my parent’s got home.
Now this is the wierdest turn of events... About 30 minutes after my fine friends left, the doorbell rang. It was my family priest! Could this day get worse? Of all times for him to drop by.
I’m sure he smelled the pot, and I’m sure he knew I was stoned, but he never acknowledged it.
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