Chronicles of a Stoner
Chapter Four: The Woes of Being Broke
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normal\'>Chronicles of a Stoner
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normal\'>Chapter Four:
normal\'> normal\'> normal\'> normal\'> normal\'> normal\'>This chapter was inspired by the phrase: normal\'> normal\'> normal\'>“People don’t use our music to normal\'> normal\'> normal\'>Dungeon Family normal\'>‘Even In Darkness’ (Album) normal\'> normal\'>“Follow the Light” normal\'> normal\'> normal\'> normal\'>*** normal\'> normal\'> normal\'> normal\'> normal\'> normal\'> The anxiety is building up. I’ve been “in between” jobs for about a month now. So, I guess the whole being broke thing is my fault. But I still hate being broke, all the same. No, I haven’t gone without being stoned for a whole But I have gone from getting stoned, habitually, everyday, And today marks my second sober day in a row. FUCK! I think I’m going to go stir crazy. The issue of my god damned sobriety and poorness! I just desperately need to leave, and I make a mad dash for I back out of my driveway like I’m the fucking Transporter, I continue on my drive with a jerky start, but after a few I drive by gas stations, a grocery store, and a movie I could go buy a cigar I could have someone Money… Hmm…maybe I could rob Too bad I scraped my At this moment, I drive by a pawn shop. I drive home as fast as I can. Yes, I am stooping that low. Mind you, this will be one of the hardest things for me to Snatch Lock, Stock and Two Usual Suspects Foxy Brown Reservoir Dogs Oceans Eleven Scarface The Godfather I, II, The Sopranos, seasons Pulp Fiction Natural Born Killers Curb Your Enthusiasm, and Stir Crazy Well, it’s not that many movies, but I love So, taking a deep breath, I gather up my DVD collection and I finally get there and, come to find, it’s closed. Fuck…just what I need, more bullshit. But I continue my search for an open pawn shop. *** “What do you mean you’ll only give me twenty dollars for “They’re scratched,” the old fuck answers back smugly. Rolling my eyes, I look the asshole straight in his eyes I look at him with as much sincerity that I can muster up But the old man cut me off. I grin; satisfied at getting my way, though it will cost me I pocket the money he holds out to me and leave with a murmured As soon as I am back in my car and on the road again, I give I set up a meeting spot and head there as fast as my car I drop him off where he needed to be and I head home. I run up the stairs and back into my apartment, receiving an First order of business, find my bubbler. I have to refill the bubbler because of the extended period I pack a fatty bowl in the bubbler and set it aside. Fuck it. I’ll deal Okay…now I can’t find a god damn lighter. I out out to my car, to the driver side door, my hand I get back inside my apartment and lock the door. Ah…that feels good to say, but I bet it’ll feel even nicer And I do. With the And I inhale. The glass bubble—the part of the bubbler that holds the SHIT! I cough out the smoke, almost choking. Finally, when I have calmed down a bit more and my coughing And the smoking continues, until the ash is sucked through After setting the bubbler aside, I just sit still, savoring But all stonedness aside, I still What ever am I going to do? Well, let me tell you what I plan on doing. And after I pop the Dungeon “People don’t use our “BREAK!”
get high;
our music to get by.”
I haven’t been stoned in two days…two.
job, but I just haven’t found one that I think suits me, yet.
weed…
month. I do have friends who take pity
on my in my time of need. A few bowls
here, a joint there; it’s good looking out.
to—if I’m lucky—getting high three to four times a week.
the fuck out of my apartment and drive somewhere, just to take my fucking mind
off of the issue at hand.
my car.
and pause to light a cigarette between shaky fingers.
calming breaths, I feel like I can control the car without killing myself.
theater. Not exactly a scenic
route. After I pass an empty lot and a
cluster of low income apartment buildings, I start to wonder where exactly I
want to go.
and pretend it’s a blunti sti style=\'mso-bidi-font-style:normal\'>no…I hate
cigars.
over the age of twenty-one go to a liquor store for me.
issue.
a bank. Then I’d have money…and an
unnecessarily long jail sentence. Not to
mention that I don’t have a gun, a proper ski mask, or anything else that would
aid in that sort of crime. And it’s too
complicated.
pipe last week…I knew I should have saved that for emergency uses only!
normal—brilliant idea.
apartment door and rush over to my DVD collection.
do. I didn’t just buy crap movies.
Smoking Barrels
and III
1-4
season 1
can stop this feeling of wanting to pull out my hair and scream.
head for the pawn shop that I passed earlier.
to).
these movies?” I cry in an outraged fury.
“These movies have to be worth, at least, forty bucks!”
like to break all those nasty teeth in your smug fucking grin! I think with
a halfway pleasant smile on my face.
and…and…fuck, I’m not intimidating en.
This isn’t working, so I suppose it’s on to ‘plan B.’
and say (more like pathetically whine), “Please, sir.
need this money. I—”
“Save your sob story for someone who’s interested.
cold-hearted bastard…I’ll make it forty dollars, then.”
my most treasured movies. Oh, well…I
suppose everyone has to make sacrifices sometimes.
‘thank you.’ I don’t feel like he
deserves my gratitude, so I don’t care if he has heard me or not.
Rex a call. He’s my dealer at the moment
and he always has decent bags.
other way.
will take me. Rex hands over a fat sack—“How
much does this weigh?” I ask him—and he asks for a ride across town.
growing impatient, but also become filled with a giddy anticipation at what’s
to come.
odd sense of déjà vu.
the glass is stained with, but there is also some transparency so that you can
see the level of water it’s filled at. The
mouth piece is attached to the bowl piece and is about the length of my hand,
and there is a carb on the left side of the bowl piece,
opposite from the mouth piece.
of not using it everyday ended with emptying it a while back.
not too much or too little water. As of
now, it’s at the perfect level.
have, first, and am a bit disturbed to find I only have three left.
with that problem after I’ve officially run out.
shit, it’s still in the car.
positioned on the handle, and I pull up, giving it a good yank—fuck! It’s
locked! Now I have to run all the way back
upstairs, grab the car keys, and come back down here.
ny
pop in during my…fuck it, I’ll say it, while I’m getting HIGH.
to actually DO.
bubbler in my right hand and my thumb covering the carb,
I spark the lighter and hold it right over the sticky green bud.
beautiful green bud soon becomes a charred black color, and it makes a sizzling
sound as it burns. My lungs fill with
the sweet smoke that I have craved for too long.
feeling because I would rather be high with a sore throat, than sober with my
throat not being irritated at all. I
lift the lighter away, but a flame continues burning atop the bowl, and I am
forced to blow it out so that the weed doesn’t burn unnecessarily.
water—is so full of smoke that it is a milky white color.
enough smoke, so I lift my thumb off the carb and
clear it of the smoke that is just longing to be sucked and absorbed into my
lungs.
more. My throat feels raw from all the
coughing, but I can’t stop. My lungs
ache and it’s as if I have to fight myself to breathe in a deep breath of fresh
air. But through my struggle, the
feeling that I’m slowly getting a buzz is not lost on me.
has ceased, I burp, and a small puff of smoke escapes me.
never taken such a big hit that I end up burping up smoke.
do it once in a while, also, but never myself.
the stem and into the murky water that fills the bubble.
this moment. It’s like a release of all
the anxiety that has been built up for the past couple of days.
me smile…well, that and the fact that I am fucking ripped off my ass.
have the issue of cigarettes to deal with, seeing as how I only have three…well,
two, now that I’m about to light one.
high. In fact, I am in the mood to
listen to some music. And I know exactly
what will set the mood…some e:
normal\'>Outkast. No, not
some Dungeon Family?
now. But I swear that this will be the
next hour or so.
Family CD into my CD player, I light a stick of incense—okay…
around—and set it on my coffee table.
Then I lay down on my couch and am finally able to light my
cigarette.
music to get high; they use our music to get by.”