School Story:
It was finals 1979. I had been a straight A student in Sociology all year. As I was walking to school-a car stopped on the street...it was Samos. He asked if I wanted a Ride. I hopped in. 2 other guys were in the car-with a lit doobie. Passed to me. Took a hit, I hardly ever smoked. So dumb to do on the way to my VERY LAST HS Final. I reasoned that I knew the test material real well and so... 1 toke couldn't hurt.
Groaned to get out of the car...I stiffened up. Walked in the front door and got cotton mouth-the started spinning a bit. The hallway felt like a ship moving. I thought to myself "Oh shit-These guys gave me death-weed".
Got to class. Mr. Smith hands me a test and pats me on the shoulder-knowing I will do well. 15 minutes later I managed to get my name written down, but the words were no longer readable. I knew I was screwed!
A few minutes later-took the blank test up to Mr. Smith and told him a white lie: I was involved in an accident on the way to school and was too shaken up to take the test. He kindly agreed to let me go home an re-test later. Thank god!
I walked back home-which usually takes 20 minutes. Felt like 2 hours of uphill climbing. Walked through the door of the house-went straight to bed. Got fetal and passed out.
Later I thought...those dudes light-up every morning on the way to school? I am such a light-weight.
