Image Source: Illustrators Journal
My greatest claim to high school infamy? (Cover your ears, mom) I actually smoked a bowl in English class. Not going to lie: I’m still pretty amazed at this little bit of bad-assery.
How did I get away with toking up in a classroom in the middle of a school day, you ask? Perfect storm of happenstance.
1. My class was in a trailer, and I sat by the um, “living room” door, which was open on a warm day.
2. No wind.
3. This class was lead by Ms. Grant, who was, shall we say, a little slow on the uptake.
Conditions were perfect.
My “chum” Ryan, a metalhead stoner with a mullet and bad teen mustache combo and about 500 functioning brain cells, sat next to me on the other side of the open door, and he produced the pipe from his jean jacket. We both figured – okay, I was the brains of this operation, so I figured – that with the door open and Ms. Grant at the helm, we could probably get away with it. He leaned out first and blazed up, to the tittering amazement of the rest of the class. My turn!
I took the hot metal bowl, leaned out and got a good solid hit, then passed it back. The feeling of the weed spreading through my body and the amazement of the rest of my class was magic. Most heads were craned in my direction, and there were a few audible snorts and titters, but overall it was like nothing was happening.
At one point the (exploding plastic) inevitable happened: Ms. Grant looked up from whatever she was teaching, twitched her nose and said, “Class, do you smell something funny?” Of course nobody smelled a damn thing. Nothing to see here, folks. I think Ryan was holding the bowl in his hand under the desk as we both stared straight ahead, a couple of red-eyed church mice. We both barely stifled a hyperventilating-laugh, because of course, this was the funniest thing ever. And that was it: back to the pipe we went, with total impunity.
I’m still amazed that I pulled this one off. Not only for the brazenness of the crime, but also because I was such a paranoid straight-and-narrow kid. I knew that if I ever tried to pull something like this off, I would get caught, and all of my co-conspirators would skate. But knowing Ms. Grant, I just knew I’d be able to pull it off that day. And isn’t that really what high school is all about? Leaving your comfort zone and taking risks?