I stand in constant need of (prayer
and)
adult’ish supervision.
Okay, so this one time, I was on
my way to visit a friend after work. She had not made it home just yet, so I
went to her house anyway because I don’t believe in traditional manners or
decorum and she has young adult’ish aged kids,
so it’s technically not trespassing if someone invites you in. Like I was
saying, her eldest daughter greeted me. My
mom will be home soon, come in. I can’t wait. Like not at all.
Yassss! I can’t wait I need some roasted broccoli like ASAP. You
would think that a dish requiring only three ingredients would be easily
replicated. But my friend, that Black girl’s mama, she got that magic flick of
the wrist like #SaltBae. She
seasons the broccoli with the exact amount of hypertension adjacency with the
fury of twelve great auntie’s smiling upon us from the afterlife. Let’s just
call her #BroccoliBae. Also,
I will outsource any task because I believe in letting experts do what they do
best. Like put gas in your car. Thanks New Jersey. Also, my apologies for that
one time when I well…you know what I did. I ain’t even know.
Anyway, my friend hadn’t made it
there yet, but these munchies were right on time. So, I’m rummaging through the
kitchen for anything to snack on. This is why I keep Target fruit snacks in my
purse – but the way my snack cravings had been set up, I didn’t have time to
re-up my purse stash. Negro. I
say to myself in my head. Are those
snickerdoodles?
I think my heart skipped a beat. Bruh, them joints
is homemade. Grab that container right now. Hell
yeah. Jack they asses for the cookies. They won’t even notice they’re gone
until it’s too late.
Now, with the container under my
arm and a cookie in hand, I’m about to get that work. I take a bite of the most
delicious, the most buttery sweetness trapped in a cookie (I’m
exaggerating, but I was hungry so that joint was hella good) as I
walk into the living room with the colonized container. My friend’s daughter
has this look on her face that was worried with a hint of anxiousness. As she
should be. I’m about to eat all of these cookies.
Well, she actually looks really
concerned. Also, she is reaching out towards me so that’s weird. I wonder
what’s wrong, but not enough to stop eating. OMG
noooo, you can’t eat that much. They’re not regular cookies. I’m
confused because it looks and tastes like a regular cookie. Why not? They taste just fine. That
response did not appease her. You’re not supposed
to eat that much. It has THC in it – like, you know, edibles. You’re only
supposed to eat like a fourth of it. Now I’m
starting to see what was troubling her. But again, this is not enough to
actually infect me with her worry. Anyway, who eats a fourth of a cookie? But I ate almost all of it already. What should I do?
Should I just finish it? These are important questions
to help me determine whether or not I should worry. I’m also still kinda hungry
which is why we are gathered here today. Uh…
Meaning, probably not, but who am I to put words in her mouth when I put the
wrong cookie in mine. I’m not batting a thousand at the moment. I also don’t
heed good advice when I’m hungry. Yolo *shrug*. I mean,
I’ve gone this far, so I minuswhale.
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| https://www.pinterest.com/pin/575897871092527455/ |
Wait a minute. Yoooo, I just ate drugs. Like
what the hell? Should I stay or should I go home? What’s the protocol? I ate
drugs in my friend’s house. I haven’t eaten dinner. I wonder if drugs react
badly to an empty stomach. I should go home, hunh? I feel like her daughter
knew that I was asking myself a lot of questions in my head, because she was
like, I don’t know what time my Mom will
be home. I think she’s getting here soon though. I couldn’t wait that long because I ate
drugs, so I should probably be where I live before they kick in. I should be in
a safe place. This means I need to get in the car and go home now. I’m okay. I
should be okay. BUT *finger
raised* in the off chance that I am not okay,
I should be safe. That’s right – safe is the safe word of the day. Remember
it.
I
made it home, rather quickly. Thankfully, Bay Area traffic knew that this was a
code red and we needed to get the chains off[1] the
highway doors. I made it home in record time. I go through my whole home
routine too, because I am not on drugs yet. I just have them in me like a drug
mule. My stomach enzymes are maybe on drugs though. Shoes off. Bra off (unlatched expertly with one hand and
then pulled though the arm opening of my shirt).
Work clothes off. Lounging clothes on. Work on the nightstand. Laptop on. TV
on. Check the mail. Yo, I am really gonna kick this drug thing before it even
sets in. I am so proud of myself. I am delightfully not impacted by the drugs I
accidentally ate. My body is a fortress. A strong and mighty tower. A pillar of
strength.
ONE HOUR LATER. What the fcuk was I about to do? *scratches head in confused* I
have been sitting at the edge of the bed like in one of those pictures where
you can’t tell if the person is coming or going. There is no shadow so you’re
gonna need to look for other clues. Was I about to get up or sit down? I
haven’t committed to either direction. I literally have no idea what I was
about to do, but Matt Damon is getting on my nerves in this stupid ass movie.
What is it about anyway and why is it taking them so long to get that little
girl in the damn machine and cure her advanced H1N1 or whatever disease they
have a cure for but don’t give to people because capitalism protects itself at
all costs? Where is Dave Chappelle’s wrap it up box when you need it? This movie is like a
mash up of Johnny Neumonic and that Kurt Russell movie. What was the name of it
again? Yeah, I remember I thought that movie was the sh!t back then – Johnny
Neumonic, not that Kurt Russell joint. Man, a lot of movies back in the day did
that whole mind/virtual reality thing before Samsung was out here scaring
people’s grandmas. There was Total Recall, Virtuosity, Strange Days. Wait, damn
like we were #BlackLivesMatter before we were #BlackLivesMatter. The police straight up killed a Black
rapper, there was a riot, and Angela Bassett was on the front line. She is the
Auntie we don’t deserve.
ANOTHER HOUR PASSED. Oh, I think I was hungry. That’s right.
I ate drugs, I should eat something that isn’t drugs. Oh yeah – food. Is that
movie still on? It’s so strange. Like that Math 32A midterm. How did I get #3
wrong? *begins to use finger and write in the
air (like Daddie) in
the room to figure out where I effed up on that math problem* Ahh, that makes sense now. I took that
L, but I won’t keep it. I’ll bounce back. They won’t get me the next time. *continues to do more advanced calculus from 10+ years ago
in the air* Food! EAT FOOD! You are a drug addict
now. You have to remember to eat. This is also known as paranoia. We have
arrived fully and completely. I am in that place now. I was also supposed to
remember a word. I have no idea what that word is. It was really important to
my safety. Pineapples!
That’s it. I don’t think we have any in the house. Dammit.
Okay.
This is a kitchen. Checklist? Window R(check). Stove R(check). Sink R(check). Counter R(check). Stove R(check). Shelves R(check). Dishes R(check). Refrigerator R(check). Food R(check). There were a lot of rooms in this
place. You made it to the right one on the first try. I am so proud of you. Now
that we are certain this is a kitchen, let’s get started. On the counter there
is wheat bread. Oh snap, I forgot the small table. I gotta add that to the
checklist next time. There are crackers, chips, cookies, and fruit. In the
refrigerator there is cheese, leftovers, salami, and more fruit. In the freezer
there are microwavable meals and ice cream. THERE IS NOTHING TO EAT IN
THIS HOUSE. I HATE IT HERE! WHO LIVES LIKE THIS? I saw a pack of
noodles from the corner of my eye. That’s perfect! The high salt content in the
noodles will attack the drugs and make me sober? Less high? What’s the word for
that? Un-high? Re-normalized? Stabilized?
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