My mom smokes pot. She smokes a lot of pot. She and I met a guy for lunch, a friend of mine that was selling her a new car.
We went to a local Mexican restaurant, it is quaint with large flood windows that light the front of the restaurant with natural light.
I drove my mom while she smoked, so when we got there she was a bit high. She says that she likes to smoke before every meal, and most times I eat with her she does.
My buddy was already waiting at a table for us. I helped my mom as she was stumbling in general direction of her chair.
My friend and I watched in amazement as my mother (small, and well mannered by nature) made eating into a sprint run race complete with the competitive attitude when it came to getting her “fair share” of the complementary chips and salsa.
She shoveled the food into her gaping mouth, and followed each crunching bite with an “MMMMM, this is so fucking good.” A small pause, and then a bit louder, “THIS IS SO FUCKING GOOD!”
The little girl on the other side of the isle turned in her seat to watch this well dressed grown up cursing. The girls grandmother frowned at me before telling the girl to sit right in her chair.
The waitress came, my mom ordered the deluxe special (my friend and I both ordered the regular specials).
We waited for the food to arrive, the chips had run out by now, so my mom excused herself and walked out side.
About three minutes went by before I saw the restaurant manager go walk outside as well.
The food came back, and so did my mom.
“I was talking on the phone,” she said, “And the manager came out side and just watched me on the phone, it was so weird.”
We enjoyed our lunch, my mom made another show of how good all the food was. The manager came to our table to ask if we were enjoying ourselves. It seemed a bit odd to me at the time but we did eat there often so I thought we were just receiving a bit of extra attention.
After lunch, my mom passed me as I stopped to pay the bill. I took my time making small talk with the girl behind the counter, and then stopped to read the headlines on the daily paper before going outside.
I walked with my friend to his car, parked about three spaces down from my mother’s. I was taking the opportunity to work out some final details in person on a business deal we are partnered on, he is rarely available at his office.
A slamming car door took my attention. My mom was running towards us,
“We have to go, we have to go right now!”
Now if you knew my mom you would understand that this happens about once a month. She once broke a 16th century suit of Japanese armor off of its stand at the Utah Museum of Fine Arts. She got high right before we went in. She was leaning forward into the armor to take a closer look, but fell on top of it instead! I was in the other room, and heard the crash, lets just say we got out of there pretty fast. I have learned from experience that it is best to listen if she feels the need to flee a scene.
My friend looked shocked, I apologized and ran for the car. I hopped in the driver’s seat and started it up. I started backing out before she even had her door closed.
The manager came running out of the restaurant as we were pulling away. He was a fat little man, but he ran after the car with a paper and pencil.
I looked at my mom as we pulled onto the road. She smiled, shrugged and nodded her head to the back seat were she had a small bong and a thick sack of weed.
I just laughed, but stopped as a police car pulling up behind us. I drove on, staring straight ahead, we didn’t speak at all.
I turned into the first 7-11 that came along, and the cop kept driving. We both let out a sigh of relief.
We got slurpies, and my mom told me that she had been smoking out of her bong, “I kept it low,” she said in answer to my raised eyebrow.
“But this family kept looking out of the window at me!” She said.
“Well no shit,” I said, “You were parked five feet in front of them smoking out of a fucking bong!”
“They had this cute little girl…” She trailed off, “Then the manager came and looked at me through the window, he left, then came back with a cell phone that’s when I came and got you,” she said.
“Well atleast you thought to get us out of there,” I said.
I reached in the back seat and took up my mother’s bong and handed it to her. She lit the bowl and drew off a long breathe of smoke. She bubbled the water inside the bong as she sucked air through the bowl. She leaned back in her chair, still holding the smoke in her lungs. Her eyes misted over, she looked relaxed. She let smoke out as she began to speak.
“The little girl was so cute. She made a fog print on the window with her mouth,” and then my mom laughed so hard that she choked a bit on the smoke, “the little girl wrote ‘hi’ on the fog print in the window!” |
