Special Cookies

Someone gave my wife and I special cookies for Christmas.  They contained tetrahydrocannabinol, the psychoactive ingredient found in recreational marijuana. From the age of 18-30 I almost always possessed marijuana, but I am now 56 years old, and I have not been a regular pot-smoker since I was 29.  I’ve only smoked pot once in the last quarter century and that was from a roach I found discarded near a construction site.  My wife had never even tried marijuana.  Whenever I suggested to my wife that I smoke marijuana she usually got mad at me or told me to wait until it was legal in Georgia.  Her main objection was the illegality of it, though  I never got busted in all the years I smoked pot, except for the time my mom found my stash and flushed it down the toilet.  Nevertheless, I always honored her wishes and part of the reason I originally hooked up with her was because she did not share my enthusiasm for mind-altering drugs.  I decided it would be better for my health, if I was with someone who didn’t want to get high all the time.  So I was shocked when she ate the whole cookie without even consulting with me.

I’ve read that modern marijuana products are much more potent than they were when I was a regular pot-smoker, and I was more cautious than she.  I just ate half of the cookie and planned to eat the other half a few days later on my weekly drinking night–I normally drink a big bottle of white wine every Thursday.  The cookie caused my wife to become giddy and giggly for a short period of time, then she acted quite inebriated for hours.  She told me it felt like she was very drunk.  She actually seemed semi-comatose, and I realized the drug might be interacting with the Prozac she takes.  The next day I researched the interaction between the 2 drugs and learned the combination of marijuana and Prozac can cause either mania or sedation.  It was definitely the latter for her.  I didn’t like my wife on marijuana because she wasn’t bossing me around like she normally does, and I missed that.  She didn’t start bossing me around as usual until about 6 hours after she ate the cookie. (My wife is an overbearing, bossy, brunette–I guess you could say that’s my type.)  I suggested from now on, if we indulge in special cookies, she should just eat half and give me the other half, but she didn’t agree.

The inside of a legal marijuana dispensary in Colorado.  Edibles are an alternative way to ingest the drug for people who don’t like to smoke.

I could tell a definite difference between marijuana and alcohol–perhaps because I had so much more experience using it.  It was trippy, more like LSD than alcohol; and indeed marijuana is classified as an hallucinogen, while alcohol is a depressant.  In all the years I smoked pot I had never tried an edible.  It took longer to feel the buzz, but I felt just as high.  It seemed weird because I’m used to just alcohol now, though I used to combine the 2 all the time.  The situation I found myself in was also strange.  Back in the day when I smoked pot, I often hung out with peers–cool dudes my own age with similar interests.  But instead I was with relatives–mostly fat old ladies in dodgy health.  When I was younger I would do something after I smoked pot.  I would go to a rock concert or a party or I would go to a bar and strike out with the chicks.  I even would go to work while stoned.  But here I was stuck inside a house with nothing to do.

I noticed more differences between alcohol and pot when I ate the rest of the cookie a few days later.  I started to drink a bottle of red wine and realized I was high enough that I didn’t need it.  I began drinking much more slowly than I normally do.  I became totally paranoid about the internet.  I had a sudden revelation that now the government and the public knows everything about me.  All a person has to do to learn about my personality is look at who I follow on twitter–a few celebrities but mostly sex workers and drug dealers.  This either never occurred to me when I’m drunk or perhaps I just didn’t care, but now I was concerned.  When I used to smoke pot there was no common use of the internet, and this was something new, and I started imagining how the government could spy on everybody through the internet.  Of course, when I sobered up the next morning I didn’t care any more and I was ok with the entire world knowing I’m a fucked up fucker. Besides the government and the public are just not that interested in me.

Alcohol makes me feel overconfident and decisive; marijuana makes me feel just the opposite.  Maybe that’s why they are such a good combination.  It’s kind of a balancing act.  Normally, after I wash dishes during my Thursday night drinking bout, I go watch music videos on youtube, and I know exactly what I want to listen to.  But when I was stoned I couldn’t decide which song to choose.  However, the internet thinks for you sometimes (a scary thought that contributed to my paranoid revelation), and youtube picked songs for me from my past history.  So I sat there and let it choose.  Incidentally, time distortion, another THC intoxication symptom, made dishwashing worse.  It felt as if I was in hell, stuck washing dishes forever.

After watching youtube videos I usually watch the television series, Supernatural, with my wife for an hour and take a break from drinking.  It was a rerun and I could barely follow it.  The effects of the marijuana began to dissipate, and I started drinking faster.  I know I went to listen to music CDs, but my memory of what I did the rest of that night is totally gone.

 

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