first joint

My friend Pam had invited me to join her and her son and husband at Harvey Washbangers this evening. I'd be at church rehearsal until about 7:45 and then usually get a "beer with the girls" at Double Dave's. So, that's where I was; with Gigi, Laurie, Jessica, Cynthia and Christoph when my phone rang. It was Pam's husband:

"Um, Greg, it's been about 20 years, but I was wondering if you might be able to help us score."
Giggling, I considered that I did have some pot at home - but not much. And I've been a bit cash-poor this month, so I didn't know when I'd get some more. Regardless, I said, "Of course, man!"
"Great, we're at 'Bangers now. Can I call you when we leave here?"
"Sure. That'll work fine. I'll be home in about 10 minutes and will be there the rest of the night."

I got home soon after that and figured that if they'd not smoked in 20 years, they'd need a joint rolled for them. Well, I knew the day would come when I'd want to roll a joint. This had just become a day when I would need to roll one! I got started right away.

Images of the Freaks & Geeks episode where Lindsay was trying to roll a joint passed through my head: spilling the weed; breaking the paper; trying to twist the ends... Memory of Rob identifying with that scene, and confirming how true it was... And here was I, ready to make one of those grievous, first-time joint-rolling mistakes. Which one would it be? Could I get this finished before Randy got here?

Well, it turned out beautifully. That joint was slender, straight, sleek and pretty.

He arrived and although was standing two feet from the counter where the joint was laying, he didn't see it. He began trying to find the words to say that neither he nor Pam were anywhere close to knowing how to roll a joint, and would I please do that for them? We connected, and I pointed out the already ready already joint.

We chatted for a good long while: He recounting some memories of when he'd been high before; and about when he was around Rob and clearly knew he was high; and I chiming in wherever necessary. It was clear that he hadn't lied about how long it had been for him: his talk was quite square! Funny; he sounded like the smart kid trying to ingratiate himself with the cool kids. He kept on talking and talking and talking. I thought it was cute.

Eventually, though, he left with the joint stuck down his crotch. He'd asked me where he ought to hide it for the ride home ("Paranoia already setting in, Greg!"). He'd had the idea of putting it in a church donation/cash envelope that he had in the car. I thought that was a great idea. However, after I told him Rob's strategy - one that we'd discussed once when I asked him what we ought to do if we have pot in the car and get pulled over - of hiding the pot "on" himself down there, it seems he couldn't help but think that was a better idea.

He left. I should hear from one or both of them tomorrow