Picture it, Sicily, 1992, except it was a small town I’ve dubbed Footloose, USA.
Back in high school there were times when my boyfriend and I would leave campus for lunch break and walk across the street to have a little herbal refreshment, some sweet Mary Jane.
I had English class after lunch and my English teacher would always like us to read everything out loud, in front of the class.
Whenever my English teacher, Mrs. Something, would be looking at my classmates to decide on who to pick to read aloud, I would always slide down in my seat because obviously that makes you invisible.
She never seemed to call on me unless it was on the days my boyfriend and I would enjoy something herbal and it wasn’t that often we did because we broke up and he pulled a dick move.
He was being an ass and I tried to break up with him but he wrote me love letters where he would apologize for his asshole behavior and would tell me how he can’t imagine living without me.
He even had his best friend talk to me, so I got back together with him.
Two days later that asshole broke up with me in a letter he had one of his friends give me. His best friend that told me to take him back. Asshole. Both of them. Of course we’re (the ex-boyfriend) Facebook friends now. Damn Facebook.
Anyway, the times Mrs. Something had me read aloud and I was having an herbal moment, I would be reading and then think oh shit I think I’m reading too slow or too fast and then words would just sound really funny to me so I would start laughing.
Yeah. I think she let it slide since I was a good student, at least when it came to English class but don’t ever ask me to do a math problem because I’ll cut you.
One day when I was extra giggly, she asked me to stay after class for a minute.
I was in a state of mind where I wasn’t too worried and was preoccupied with having the munchies but started getting a little nervous and that’s when she asked me if I had been drinking.
I was able to look at her and honestly say No, of course not.
The moral of the story? If you get stoned before English class, years later you’ll find yourself writing rambling posts.
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