Back then, in the Sixties, the legality of what I was doing was certainly questionable, but it wasn’t like I was dealing. I was just procuring enough for personal use.
A friend of mine — actually more of an acquaintance — set me up with a guy who supposedly had a sizable stash of Acapulco Gold, the good stuff.
My friend arranged for me to meet up with the guy outside of the county fairgrounds. I went incognito just to make sure no one recognized me. After all, buying pot at the time was still a crime. When I found the guy, I asked for a sample of his ganja. He rolled a big fat doobie right there on the spot, sparked it up, and told me to take a few tokes.
It was strong shit, and he suggested I take a ride on the ferris wheel to let it take hold. I did and it was quite a trip, man. Really far out. I came back to the meeting place and asked him the price for an ounce. We got into a bit of a scrap over the price, so I gave the guy some feedback about my high. I told him it was just okay, even though it was definitely primo weed. But I used that as a negotiating tactic and we finally came to an equitable deal.
Now I’m really feelin’ groovy.
Written for Jim Adams’ Thursday Inspiration prompt, based upon the photo at the top and the word “roll.” Also for these daily prompts: E.M.’s Random Word Prompt (legality), You Daily Word Prompt (acquaintance), Word of the Day Challenge (spark), My Vivid Blog (ferris wheel), The Daily Spur (scrap), and Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (feedback).