Marijuana Joints to go
I was 12 years old and had just got done smoking my first marijuana joint and went into the other room to relax, and have a cigarette. Tim and myself headed into his room and started talking about the weed we just smoked, the big ass bag of “mota” that “Charley” had, and whatever we were going to do that day. I remember Charley being there – and pulling his bag o’ mota back out and twisting up several more joints – while we smoked a cigarette.
Rolling the joints…
As Charley rolled up the marijuana joints, I remember him handing a pile of mota/marijuana to Tim and asking him to “break this shit up man”, so he could keep rolling the rest. I remember watching the whole process and trying to remember what to do. Charley made the rolling part look easy, and Tim seemed to have the “break it up” part down. I sat and watched them, as they performed this marijuana rolling ritual, hoping to learn how to do it myself.
My first childhood marijuana memory…
It was about now that I started to remember something from several years before. I had a memory from when I was about 5 years old or so flash in my head. I could remember seeing a couple of my family members sitting in a car in front of our house. Being a curious 5 year old, I walked over to see what they were doing. One of them had his head down and it looked like he was reading something, but when I got closer, he was actually breaking something up, and wrapping it up in a paper. One of them must have noticed me watching, because I remember being shoo’d away.
“What are they doing in that car?” I asked. “Oh that’s nothing, it’s alright, they’re just making a cigarette” -someone replied (Now those may not have been the exact words they said, but when the memory came to me, I remember pretty vividly thinking “it’s alright, they’re just….”). The impression I obviously got from the whole scene was, whatever they were doing, wasn’t so bad, they just didn’t want me around them while they were doing it. Now years later, I sit here watching my friend and his family-friend, doing the same thing. What was I to think?
Take some joints home…
“Here kid, take a couple for yourself”. Charley told Tim – “and give your buddy a couple to take home too”.
Charley handed Tim 4 pre-rolled joints, which Tim took 2 of and handed to me before tucking the other 2 away for later, and then he (Charley) left.
“See you guys later – have fun!” I heard him say as he was leaving.
“Thanks man – see you next time.” Tim replied.
I tucked the 2 marijuana joints, that were just given to me, away in my wallet and we scrounged the apartment for some change. We were running low on cigarettes, and at the time we would usually just split a pack – which lasted us 3-4 days at least.
“One more quarter and we can split a pack of smokes.” Tim said, as he searched the couch cushions. “JACKPOT – let’s go!”
We managed to scrape up the $1.25 that it would cost us for that pack of cancer sticks – and we were on our way to the store. Those were the days when cigarettes only cost 5 quarters and any party store would sell them to any kid with a “note from your mom”. Was it our fault that “mom” had bad hand writing and “was too sick to leave the house for her own smokes”?
I remember leaving the store with our cigarettes, and heading over to the arcade for a few – before going back to Tim’s. It was almost time for my parents to pick me up and take me home.
I had 2 joints in my wallet and a long school week ahead….