On this episode of Kid From The Valley,
Stress. Stress management. Words in adulthood you hear way too often. So many methods on how to deal with stress. Some choose to do yoga or go to the gym, some choose to dive in feet first into something artistic and creative, some read, some hike, swim, or even go for a drive. Whatever it may be we all need some kind of outlet at the end of the day to untangle ourselves from being so wound up from the everyday struggles we all face every now and then. Some choose to drink the stress of the world away but that can only do so much. Although my love for alcohol runs deep, drinking is more of an everyday/ casual activity. I’m talking about something that’s going to help release endorphins. Something that’s going to help you think and let go of the bags that weigh you down. Something like Jane.
Jane can be an amazing therapist sometimes. She understands that you may just want to not think about the drama at your job or the crazy deadlines you may have at school, or that past due bill that’s taunting and giving you anxiety. Jane just makes things better. She makes food taste better, movies sound and look better, people who aren’t usually funny and suddenly funnier. She just gets it. Ans she’s versatile. She comes in all these different forms and styles: Sativa, indica, hybrids. Uppers and downers and the weed that’s in between. Then there’s oils and waxes which Mack does not fuck with at all and I’ll tell you why. I’m sure you noticed I left out a certain outfit that Jane sometimes dresses in. Edibles.
This is a story about the day that I discovered that edibles is NOT the dress I enjoy Jane in. It was 2009 summer time, Saturday night and I was 20. My cousins, sister and I were in Glendora assuming our usual weekend activities. We would smoke, pick a location to explore and we’d gallivant into the night. I was always the driver, Justyn was the front seat navigator and radio DJ, my sister Robyn and cousin Lisa were the back seat drivers and evening commentators. On this particular night, Justyn decides to try something new. He tells me he has a friend 5 minutes away from his house that made some butter that we should try tonight instead of smoking. Butter. Yes. BUTTER. Even though every alarm and siren in my body and mind were going off, my mouth said “ok.” We leave and tell Robyn and Lisa we’ll be right back. We pull up to his friend’s house, a white boy with skateboard helmet shag hair comes out with a plastic ramekin cup of freshly whipped butter that reeked of THC. With my alarms and sirens going off my mouth then says to Justyn, “we should go to the store to get something to eat this on.” What can I say, we were a part of the Stupid Youth Club. So we pull up to a 7-Eleven. Just before we get out after I park the car, a cop car pulls alongside us. The height of paranoia that came over us at that moment was unreal and come to think of it unnecessary. We started sweating, Justyn immediately turns down the radio, we start trying to look and act normal which made us look suspicious and stupid. I think I even waved at the officer as I got out the car and Justyn telling me to stop as he rushed me inside the store. We walk up and down the aisles gathering up the chips, gum, 4 different Arizona teas and peach rings we would consume by the end of the night. Then we searched for the item to spread the butter on. A normal person would think to spread butter on a piece of bread, pancakes, hell maybe even an Eggo. Our dumb asses didn’t think of any of those but instead thought, they make butter cookies. That’s a thing. Let’s spread it on a cookie. Great idea!!
So there we all are. The four of us. In the kitchen bracing our stomachs and our taste buds for this Pepperidge Farm cookie topped with a thick Paula Dean slather of butter and a nauseating smell enough to make you gag. Not only did we each eat the cookie but we decided to eat all of the butter because for some reason we were convinced that we were unable to leave leftover butter for another time. So leaving no trace of this butter’s existence, we continued to spread more butter on more cookies until the entire ramekin was gone. Although we were disgusted in ourselves for willingly digesting that shameful amount of butter, we grabbed our jackets and pressed on with our plans to explore the night. Much like the opening scene in “Wayne’s World“, a song such as Bohemian Rhapsody would play and as Jane took her effect the music would become greater and greater and she would give us musical direction and cues with each of us having a part to sing and an air instrument to play. We were a bunch of “Mallrats” so naturally, our usual hangout was the Santa Anita Mall. Much of that night is a blur to me. I remember being at the mall but not too much of how I drove there. Which is impressive given the fact that I drove a stick shift. I remember there was a lot of people watching, dancing outside the stores, and confusion of what was happening around us. After a few hours, we decided to go back home and watch a movie till we pass out. We get back to the house, still have no memory of the drive in between the mall and my cousin’s house or how we got back safely at all, and by that time Jane was in full rage. I remember we stepped out of the car and all 4 of us walked to the house as if the earth tilted on its side. Trying desperately to make it to the front door without being too loud one of us falls into the bush on the way up the porch steps (me), another fumbled with the keys trying to open the door (Justyn) and the other 2 cannot stop laughing. Lisa makes a B-line for her bed and crashes, Justyn and Robyn set up a movie while I contemplate life with my head in a toilet bowl asking God to help me throw up because I no longer wanted to be high. With no luck, I joined the other 2 in the living room laughing hysterically at The Incredible Hulk.
The next morning it was time for Robyn and me to go back home. Midway through our journey down the 210 towards the 118 home, staring out the window with her sunglasses drawn and her hand over her forehead, Robyn asks softly, “are you still high?” Exhausted I replied, “yeah I wasn’t gon’ say nothin’ but FUCK I thought it was just me.” We sat there nauseous and tired both of us wanting it to end. Dazed and confused I missed my exit twice. How did I miss my exit twice? Simple. I missed it once, I got off when I realized it, got back on, zoned out and missed it again. Finally, when we got home we both sat in the living room to try to act normal, which wasn’t normal because we never hung out in the living room. Shortly after we turned on the TV and said hi to everyone we naturally passed out for the remainder of the day and well into the night. I remember my aunt walking through asking if we had a good weekend with that shake of the head. That “y’all stupid” smirk/shake of the head. Days after the 4 of us would be reminded of that night with Jane via the odor that came from every burp and flatulent that we would produce. Yep. It was gross. Gross enough to make me want to never see Jane dressed as butter or anything edible ever again……well maybe not ever again 😉