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Getting High with J

As an intern for “Mad Rich Reviews,” I have been given the opportunity to share some of my favorite marijuana-related thoughts and stories. The first story I would like to share, follows a topic we talked about on the first few episodes of the podcast. Alas, the first time I ever got high. Before I get into my story however, I must disclose that at Mad Rich Reviews we never condone the illegal use of marijuana, rather encourage you all to push for a change in legislation in your own state or country so it is legal to do so.

A little over 6 years ago, a few weeks before the start of football season and my first day of high school, I was invited to my first “highschool party.” For the most part, it was a gathering of upperclassmen football players and girls. Being the brother of a rising senior on the team, I was invited to show up. I knew they all smoked and drank, but I never had done so myself. I decided beforehand that if offered, I would oblige, but only of small amounts.

Since the party was less than a mile from my house, I had the reassurance that I could just leave whenever I wanted. The moment I showed up, I was re-directed by an older anonymous friend of mine, who immediately drove me back to my house to change, saying “woah, woah, you don’t want to ruin your nice clothes, do you?” “Of course not,” I said, not knowing what the hell I was getting into.

As the night progressed, I got a realistic idea of what high school partying consisted of and the comradery of sports teams off the field. The only issue was that my brother was blackout drunk before 10 pm, meaning it was on me to make my own decisions at a party of people much older than me. This became apparent when I opened the door to the bathroom and saw him vomiting on the floor. Regardless, I carried on making acquaintances through small talk and hinting through conversation that I was interested in smoking weed. That same anonymous friend from earlier in the story always kept a black backpack with his 8 inch rastafarian design bong, so I knew who to ask.

I’ve mentioned this on the podcast and it is something I will reference often: teenagers do not care about different strains. Drug dealers will post any sort of mid on their Snapchat Story and call it “Gorilla Glue” or “Sour Diesel.” So in essence, any sort of title is irrelevant to us until we reach a legal age of smoking marijuana. That age is 21 in my state.

Anyway, at this age we don’t know what we’re smoking, or how to smoke it. Someone else packed my bowl and lit my bowl. Thus, my first time smoking was getting ruthlessly high and coughing like a COPD patient outside of my neighbor’s house while his dad showed up to crash the party. Though his dad was actually apologetic about the whole thing, it was still an odd situation to be in getting high for the first time. However, my takeaway from the night wasn't being paranoid, but rather a sense of freedom and community. Because of this, I have fond memories of my first time getting high, opposed to others who find theirs to be uneventful or unpleasant.



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