The CHP officer dropped me off last night in Aptos on a road he said goes straight into Santa Cruz after 5 miles. Knowing I wouldn't be able to make it to the coast in time for sunset, I found a spot to sit and eat some tortilla chips. When my break was up, I walked down the road looking for an electrical outlet. Couldn't find one, so I turned around and headed back toward Roadhouse Pizza, where I planned to ask if I could charge my phone. They said it was OK, so I hung around and chatted with the people working there. The manager was Troy and another dude's name, I believe, was Alex. When they closed, at 9:00, Troy gave me 2 ice cream bars and 2 Gatorades and said I was welcome to hang around. Post-closing time is when the fun begins at Roadhouse. Four of their friends showed up and someone passed around a bong. When it got to me, I inhaled. Yeah, I sucked it in, and soon I was baked.
I don't like getting high because it generally makes me paranoid, but once in a while I do it anyway.
3 comments:
i gotta admit, i'm surprised you don't get offered weed more often. or any other recreational drugs, for that matter.
insane in the membrane
Insane in the brain!
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