I remember that night
It was a few days after Theresa had passed and Paul had arrived from Nova Scotia. I dropped him off at my old apartment at Haysboro, and drove over to 7-11 to buy a couple of Slurpee's. A quick stop at the weed store nearby, I pop in.
I was looking for some pre-rolled joints, so I asked the man at the desk what he had. The strongest joint was an 18-strain hybrid which came in at just under 30% thc. They took 18 different strains of cannabis, and blended them together to form 1 joint. Insanity.
"This is the strongest joint we have in the store" the man said to me. Ominous sounds in the distance. I looked at the package, in a round container like the one shown above. I said I would buy one of the 3-packs. "Be careful, those are powerful". The man gave me a warning, but I ignored him.
Back at the apartment, Paul had settled in with a diet Pepsi at the far couch. I sat nearby on the other sofa, and pulled out the 18-joint package. I spent 15 minutes trying to open the impossible package, ending up using a bread knife to saw it open.
I sat back on the couch and offered Paul the first hit, but he declined. "I don't know if I'm ready for this" he said. I shrugged and lit the joint up with my blow torch. I took a long inhale and turned the torch off. That powerful smoke hit me instantly, I felt dizzy from the first hit. I hadn't smoked a joint in a few months.
I passed the joint over to Paul and told him it was very powerful. We ended up passing the joint back and forth over the next 10 minutes. And after each bleary red-eye exchange, we hit the last puff.
Paul settled back and closed his eyes. I sat back and took a sip of coffee. I had made a cup just after finishing that joint. While I was taking a sip of my coffee, Paul's eyes suddenly opened widely and he lunged up onto his feet.
He ran quickly into the bathroom, and closed the door. Unfortunately, here is where the story gets twisted. I hear a retching sound coming from the bathroom, and it's Paul puking his guts out. I begin laughing uncontrollably. The more Paul pukes, the more laughter.
Just when you thought he couldn't puke anymore, he gives one last legendary heave.
Finally after a couple of minutes, I realize how awful I acted, so I apologized.
The next day, Paul had recovered but couldn't bring himself up to smoke.
I felt a bit guilty about that.
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