Tuesday, July 27, 2004
Chipping in for an eighth
Around the age of fourteen I tried my first joint, I foolishly thought that as I'd been smoking cigarettes since the age of eleven that I'd be able to handle it 'no problemo'. I was with some older kids, who I didn't know too well, they didn't know that I had never tried dope before and I was hardly going to offer up this 'not cool' information. It must have been pretty obvious however as I pulled on the soggy roach and took my first lung full of spliff, at first the burn was much like a cigarette, then gradually it became more intense.
They'd told me that to get the most out of it I should hold the smoke down for as long as possible, I tried, the burn intensified, I must have looked like a cartoon character, red cheeks swelling, painful bloodshot eyes bulging, smoke streaming out of my ears, I was desperately looking for a sign from these older kids that I'd held the smoke down for long enough, that I'd done well, gained acceptance, respect. I saw it, a grin and a nod, from the most senior of them a skinny 15 year old kid with stumpy dreads I exhaled with relief. They were chuckling to themselves, looking at me through smiling stoned eyes in anticipation, I coughed, just a little one, my throat was instantly warmed, I giggled a little and was about to take another drag when I coughed again........and again..........and then I erupted!
A cough from hell is all I can describe it as, much worse than the coughing fit experienced when smoking your first cigarette, this was deeper, hotter, much more painful. My eyes watered, I was bent over crippled by my protesting lungs which were crying out for liquid to soothe the burn of the Molten lava in my belly. Everyone else found this highly amusing, they rolled around on the floor clutching stomachs, laughing deep and loud. The laughter was infectious and I soon found myself laughing at my own predicament, short yapping coughs interrupted this sporadically, "jesus! that burns!"
The smirk on my face turned into a chuffed grin as I looked up, tears still streaming. "well done son" accompanied by a forceful pat on the back, "at least you didn't throw up" . "Yeah" I thought, I'd held it together, "give us another go" I cockerly said, "steady on greedy lungs" said one of the kids, "go on, let him have another toke" said the dred. Cool, I was ok, I had found my niche, I was a bad boy. I can't recall how I met these guys or through whom, but I started to hang out with them, Russell, the skinny stumpy dred haired white kid became a bit of a buddy for a while and through him I was introduced to illegal dance parties, skunk and acid. I was around fifteen now and I started to gradually drift away from my school friends, I'd 'bunk off' school, spending my time either in a nearby cafe or round someone's house, getting stoned, listening to music or watching crap daytime TV.
Unfortunately this was around the time of the 'mocks' , the practice exams preceding the 'O' levels (we were I believe the last year to take 'O' level exams. The government decided to change the structure of the end of school exams for the easier GCSE's which were based on coursework throughout the year rather than one exam at the end, it made the pass success rates higher). Needless to say that my grades headed south as I fell further and further behind with each class missed. I still had it in me to do ok in the mock exams, helped by the fact that we got hold of the economic history paper two weeks prior and so had that one in the bag. I finished up with around one or two A's, four or five B's and a couple of C's as passes, leaving me with a couple of 'fails' in subjects I'd lost my way in a long time ago. When I did make it to school, the day often consisted of meeting up for registration, getting together with a few friends and persuading them to chip in a couple of pounds each to buy an eighth (of an ounce of hashish). We'd head of to a quiet spot just off school premises and skin up, sometimes we'd head back to school and continue with our lessons, else we'd drift off into town driven by munchies towards McDonald's and chicken nuggets.
Think I'd better get on with some work now, so til' next time, nx.
They'd told me that to get the most out of it I should hold the smoke down for as long as possible, I tried, the burn intensified, I must have looked like a cartoon character, red cheeks swelling, painful bloodshot eyes bulging, smoke streaming out of my ears, I was desperately looking for a sign from these older kids that I'd held the smoke down for long enough, that I'd done well, gained acceptance, respect. I saw it, a grin and a nod, from the most senior of them a skinny 15 year old kid with stumpy dreads I exhaled with relief. They were chuckling to themselves, looking at me through smiling stoned eyes in anticipation, I coughed, just a little one, my throat was instantly warmed, I giggled a little and was about to take another drag when I coughed again........and again..........and then I erupted!
A cough from hell is all I can describe it as, much worse than the coughing fit experienced when smoking your first cigarette, this was deeper, hotter, much more painful. My eyes watered, I was bent over crippled by my protesting lungs which were crying out for liquid to soothe the burn of the Molten lava in my belly. Everyone else found this highly amusing, they rolled around on the floor clutching stomachs, laughing deep and loud. The laughter was infectious and I soon found myself laughing at my own predicament, short yapping coughs interrupted this sporadically, "jesus! that burns!"
The smirk on my face turned into a chuffed grin as I looked up, tears still streaming. "well done son" accompanied by a forceful pat on the back, "at least you didn't throw up" . "Yeah" I thought, I'd held it together, "give us another go" I cockerly said, "steady on greedy lungs" said one of the kids, "go on, let him have another toke" said the dred. Cool, I was ok, I had found my niche, I was a bad boy. I can't recall how I met these guys or through whom, but I started to hang out with them, Russell, the skinny stumpy dred haired white kid became a bit of a buddy for a while and through him I was introduced to illegal dance parties, skunk and acid. I was around fifteen now and I started to gradually drift away from my school friends, I'd 'bunk off' school, spending my time either in a nearby cafe or round someone's house, getting stoned, listening to music or watching crap daytime TV.
Unfortunately this was around the time of the 'mocks' , the practice exams preceding the 'O' levels (we were I believe the last year to take 'O' level exams. The government decided to change the structure of the end of school exams for the easier GCSE's which were based on coursework throughout the year rather than one exam at the end, it made the pass success rates higher). Needless to say that my grades headed south as I fell further and further behind with each class missed. I still had it in me to do ok in the mock exams, helped by the fact that we got hold of the economic history paper two weeks prior and so had that one in the bag. I finished up with around one or two A's, four or five B's and a couple of C's as passes, leaving me with a couple of 'fails' in subjects I'd lost my way in a long time ago. When I did make it to school, the day often consisted of meeting up for registration, getting together with a few friends and persuading them to chip in a couple of pounds each to buy an eighth (of an ounce of hashish). We'd head of to a quiet spot just off school premises and skin up, sometimes we'd head back to school and continue with our lessons, else we'd drift off into town driven by munchies towards McDonald's and chicken nuggets.
Think I'd better get on with some work now, so til' next time, nx.
// posted by nx @ 12:14 PM 
