The First Time I Smoked Grass
It was first grade.
I heard over lunch that people were joking about smoking grass. They said that this was something for high-schoolers and rock stars. It happened over lunch at school.
My first thought was that it seems odd to be smoking grass, but whatever I wanted to be a part of the cool kids club. You remember what it was like when you were young, right?
A few days later, as usual, regularly we burned our trash in the fire pit nearby the barn. So, I dragged out the trash, and put it in the firepit. I took the lighter, and started the trash, and let it burn. As was the case, when you burned trash you had to make sure that it would always burn out, and not catch fire, so I had some time to kill.
Then it hit me. I was standing in a field of grass.
AND PEOPLE SMOKED THIS STUFF?
So, there I was, a first grader. Looking at this beautiful field of grass, and I thought, “Hmm, it can’t be so bad. Why don’t I give it a shot.”
So, I took a blade of grass, and plucked it. I remember looking at it, inspecting in inquisitively. I took the blade of grass in my mouth, and at the end I tried to light it like a cigarette.
Trying over and over again, I couldn’t get the blade of grass to light. I was huffing and puffing, and that blade of grass just wouldn’t light. Soon thereafter, I gave up. I assumed that this whole “smoking grass” fad would end, and considered them losers for doing something so dumb.
From then on, though, I knew. I wasn’t a “grass smoker” or whatever it is called. I never told my friends either that I tried it when I was in first grade.
I would have been embarrassed to tell that that I wasn’t all into the “grass smoking” at such a young age.
But at least the truth came out, eventually. I smoked grass. Or at least I gave it a shot.
