Ever since I was a kid, I always said that if I ever had a chance - I'd try smoking weed. I was 17 years old at the time. No drinking, no smoking cigarettes. Pretty much a clean (depressed) boy. Alcohol never really interested me, but I did want to try drugs. I remember listening to music and "wishing" I was high, although actually doing drugs didn't really seem like me. And then, I discovered Lil Peep. He was a big influence on me, on the way I dressed, the way I looked at things. I pretty much thought of myself as a junkie before I ever did any drugs. The mindset was there. And considering that I think that addiction is not about the substances, but about why people use them, I don't think I was that far off.
One day, this one class mate bragged about his new "super cool" older friend group. One of them was selling dope. I knew - this is my chance. So I asked the class mate to hook me up. It took a couple of days, and in the mean time, I was looking for someone to smoke it with. I asked this girl from my class, we weren't dating, but there was something going on between us (we did end up dating for a bit, much later, so I can say that confidently knowing it wasn't just wishful thinking from my end, haha). She agrees, and the day comes. As we are walking out of school, this guy comes up to us. Apparently, he's her boyfriend, and he's going to join us. I was pretty mad and disappointed, but in hindsight, it really wasn't that bad that he did.
We get some snacks, and hop on a bus to my place. I feel super nervous. It's super hot, late spring. I remember the exact date, it was Wednesday, the 18th of April. The reason I remember it so well is because I always thought that it's funny that just two days from then, it was April 20th, and a Friday. A much more appropriate date for smoking weed. But alas, I did not have the patience to wait.
We arrive, and I hand the ball of tinfoil to the dude. He had smoked before, like 4 or 5 times, which, to a seventeen-year-old who had never touched anything, sounded like a veteran. He unwraps it, and I see it - weed. Looking back, it was the shittiest weed I've ever seen. It was a strange color, the amount was definitely less that advertised, and it even smelled weird. Getting bad weed on the first purchase is not an unusual experience from what I heard. But I didn't have anything to compare it with at the time, so it didn't matter.
He mixed it with some tobacco, and rolled it into a joint. Looking at the process, I realized that neither me, nor the girl would have managed to do it ourselves, so I felt a little less mad about him being there. We went out into the balcony. The dude goes "do you know how to smoke?". I say no. He asks "what do you mean? Have you never smoked a cigarette before?"
So just before I got to smoke my first joint, I also smoked my first cigarette.
I remember the feeling of weed actually hitting me. It was hard to describe. Still is. Just saying "weed high" doesn't feel like justice to the feeling. It's not that it was just my first time smoking weed, like I said, I had very little experience with alcohol as well. It was my first time... not being sober. Strange. Head spinning? No. Something else. Why do I want to laugh? I wouldn't say that anything funny is happening.
We go back inside. The dude recommends we try some chips. I put one on my tongue. I feel all the waves of the chip, every bit of salt and spice that was added to it. It's almost overwhelming. I spent more time just exploring things. Taste, sound, touch. Everything felt so different.
The experience did turn sour again. The dude clearly wanted to fuck the girl, and I was as much in his way, as he was in mine. So after a couple of awkward moments, they left. I was pretty much sober by then, but not entirely. I remember being hit by a very long and intense déjà vu. I didn't want to be alone, so I desperately texted all my friends to meet up, but it just so happened that everyone was busy. I kinda thought it was the universe punishing me for stepping out of line. Funny, I ended up going to my moms workplace, and spent some time with her there.
The last thing I remember from that day is trying to fall asleep. I wanted more weed. Quite desperately. I kept thinking about it. Thinking about all those school campaigns that said "one try is enough to become addicted." Were they right? To this day, I can't actually answer the question. I don't think so. I wouldn't say I was addicted from that first experience. Later, I saw a lot of people who would smoke once or twice, and then just stop. There was a long time between my first joint, and weed actually becoming a regular thing in my life. But it did happen eventually, so who knows?