How my perceptions on Cannabis have changed since I first laid eyes on Mary Jane
By Nuff Said
I’m sure if you ask any stoner about the first time they experienced cannabis they will be able to tell you an anecdote; either culminating in them not getting stoned, or having a whale of a time. For me it was the latter. But before I get into that, I would like to go back even further, to the first time I saw some ground up green stuff but was far too afraid to try it.
OK, so I was young. About 11 or 12. I was with a few of my cousins (all older), and we went out of the house and sat across the road. One had a tobacco tin (I knew that much), but when he lifted off the lid its contents were green rather than the brown I’d seen before.
My parents had done a good job of keeping me in the dark about all drugs. I didn’t even know there were other ways to get fucked other than alcohol. Come to think about it, fuck probably wasn’t even in my vocabulary. I was a well-sheltered kid, to say the least. Moving back to the story, my cousin rolled a ‘long cigarette’ (I’m going by what I can remember of my thoughts at the time), and proceeded to light it and pass it around.
Of course I rejected it. I knew smoking was ‘dangerous’, and had been told that if I even so much as smoked a cigarette I would have an asthma attack and die. Pretty serious claims eh? That was the extent of my parent’s love – they wanted me to be their perfect little boy, and I couldn’t ever blame them for it.
And so that was my first experience of cannabis. I didn’t even see it again for the next few years. One Saturday when at a hobby I used to partake in for several summers one of my good friends came up to me saying “Smell this.” At that age, that usually meant one thing (but I will not be lowering the tone of this article), but in this instance it was his wallet which smelled strongly of the resin he had been smoking the night before. I remember liking the smell, and I would have been tempted to try some, had I only been offered.
By this time I was the rebellious little rude boy type – before chavs – but not the kind that would go around causing trouble. I guess underneath it all I was a nice, well-brought-up kid. I liked to think of myself as an adult, but looking back I was a million miles away from being one. And so when I next encountered cannabis, although I had never even smoked tobacco and didn’t really even know what cannabis was, I was more than ready to try it for myself.
I remember I was at a house party near my school. It’s a wonder I was even allowed to a house party, probably the first one I ever went to. And suddenly a couple of kids in the year above came round with weed – again in tin foil for some reason – and split it into four, one quarter (not an actual quarter, that would have been far too much) for each person that had ‘chipped in’. Then came the hard part – rolling. They didn’t use tobacco – I know, a good thing, but they only put the tiniest bit of ganja in the spliffs. As a result they were awful, meaning I can safely assume that the majority of people that tried cannabis that day were also new to the whole thing. The spliffs as a result were really hard to smoke, although they definitely did the job. I distinctly remember going to each of the four people as they shared their spliffs, asking if I could have a toke or two. I was a cheeky bugger like that. After my 4-8 drags I got bored of burning the back of my throat and went inside to party. I do remember thinking ‘Ha, see mum and dad, I didn’t die from smoking’, and perhaps this alone made me feel a bit more rebellious to my parent’s teachings.
Then it’s a blur. Dancing melted into sitting on the stairs, about half way up, wondering why I felt so heavy and light at the same time. Even by my standards today this must have been some good shit. For the first time in my life I was high. As Kat Williams would say; high, high high high high.
Then something terrible happened, although I was pissing myself with laughter too much to feel any paranoia whatsoever. I remember my friend saying his mum was here to pick us up and we had to go. So, being the most stoned I’ve ever been, before or since, I had to now walk 10 minutes to meet his mum to go home where my mum and dad would obviously want to speak to me before I went to bed.
As I was walking, I remember everything being rather ‘cartoony’. I had been drunk once or twice, but this was really different. Everything seemed comical and I was floating along in a happy little bubble all the way home. Fortunately that night I had the excuse that I had broken up with one of my childhood girlfriends, so I went up to bed and faced away when my mum came in to speak to me.
“I’m just upset.” I said. “I’ll speak to you in the morning.” Thank god she went out and left me too it, as I don’t think I could have acted any more normal than that at that point. Wow, so this was what cannabis was. I loved it from the offset, and decided that night to do it again at the earliest opportunity. However, I still didn’t really know what it was, just that it was ‘cool’ and made me feel funny in a really good way. Oh, how much I still had to learn! One other thing I remember about that night was how dry my mouth felt. It’s strange, how now I smoke every day I never get a dry mouth, compared to the almost agonising times back when I smoked occasionally, when I was still adjusting to smoking and I’d feel like I couldn’t swallow.