The Making of a Marijuana Addict

I will never forget the first time I smoked weed. The year was 1987. I was 13 years old. My brother, who was ten years my senior and my chaperone for my first homecoming dance with a boy, took my date and me out to a cornfield just south of town and showed us how to smoke pot from a small metal pipe. I can still taste that pipe, and I can remember walking into the high school high as a kite thinking, “Someone will know,” as the paranoia set in. Fortunately, they didn’t and I had a wonderful night. My brother picked us up later, and we giggled about how much fun the dance was all the way home. <a href="https://medium.com/bouncin-and-behavin-academy/the-making-of-a-marijuana-addict-f77fc3656ea1">Click Here</a>