Among the Green Ones

Among The Green Ones

The putrid skunk scent had become a regular customer in my nostrils. I sat on the stone curb as they huddled around the newly lit flame. It resembled the scene in I am Legend where the blood thirsty zombies gathered around each other. The building provided shelter from the harsh winds, but they still wrapped their faces in black toques and hoodies.

       I didn’t know why I was there. My lungs had never felt the taste of the “herbs” (they always tell me it’s not a drug), but what else did I really have to do. That’s how I thought about it. I mean I could have been doing my homework, but once you get accepted into university, it’s like the world around you stops and tells you to chill. Being around them was something to do, even though it consisted of doing nothing.

It works like this: they get high, they fuck around, and then they find more of the stuff. Rinse, lather, repeat. The life of a pot head on the outside is not different from the life of an Indian housewife married to a rich computer engineer. She sits around watching soap operas with virtually the same plot, as the servant does everything that needs to be done. She fucks her husband the same way as the day before, because that’s what he likes, and the cycle repeats.

           But on the inside, it always seems like the next best thing to heaven. They are always happier. Even the ones that constantly bitch like they’re Tupac in the Me Against the World Video. Weed brings a smile to their faces, and sometimes it’s a good time. It’s kind of seems like bumping into each other in space while being hopped up on helium gas. I never really understood what made them so happy. They always described it as indescribable; one of those things you got to try to truly empathise.

I was always tempted to do it. Maybe a few puffs, but something always kept me grounded. Maybe, it was my fear of heights.

He watched them again as they lit up another joint.

“Sparks”, one of them yelled lighting the rolled up piece of paper.

“Deuce”, another chimed in.

“Truce”, yelled a more eager one.

          “Man. What the fuck. That’s so snake. I’m never  deuce”, cried the last one. This dialogue was not uncommon among pot heads. As laid back as they are, they love their weed. It’s funny because they love to get people on the stuff, but as soon as the newbies become a regular, they wish they hadn’t inducted them into their rotation.  If pot heads could, I bet they would buy the finest weed from Mexico’s finest drug cartel and smoke it alone, but it’s physically impossible-well unless you’re one of those blood thirsty zombies. Weed makes people selfish, it’s a fact.

           They inhaled down into the pits of their trained lungs and passed the spliff to the next person on rotation, as the heels of their feet rose closer to the full moon. “Yo man…I’m so high…”, one of them whispered.

I played along as usual. “Yeah bro. You see that. What the fuck. Watch out!”

“What man! What’s going on”, the whisper replied.

         This was usually the most fun you could have being sober. “Nothing man. I’m just fucking with you.” He stared at me, and then smiled so wide you could see his wisdom teeth. The side effect of ADHD kicked in, fading the smile and pointing him into another direction.

But this time they were fucked, like the second time, “I’m going to try it again”, fucked. They were busting out dance moves from the 80s and laughing at the weird faces they were giving each other. I thought they were on some good shit. Of course I never knew the different between good and bad shit, but it looked like good shit. Quite the use of the word shit.

         They started marching. Sometimes it’s amazing how cooperative they are. They looked like soldiers marching on Bastille Day. There was no error in each step. I was quite honestly amazed. It was like they were scared into marching, like something terrible would happen if they stopped. I looked at one of them. He was crying. Tears flowed right down to his mouth, but he held an unusual smile. I could have sat there and stared at him for hours; it was the most bizarre thing I’ve ever encountered.

This went on for 20 minutes. They pretended like they were in war and started gunning each other down with semi-automatic-invisible machine guns. I followed them around. I felt like a medic in this idiotic war. Soon after they stopped.