Ah...such an awesome night. I went with my buddy to go see the Red Hot Chili Peppers at the Garden in Boston, but I kinda wish he'd have told me some shit first, like the fact that they pat your ass down before they let you in. I'm about to go through the line where you show them your ticket, when I notice this 250 pound fucking security guard with a metal detector way ahead of me. It's too late to turn back now, and as me and my buddy exchange "We're fucked" looks, I walk up to the guy. Now my buddy was clean, but I had my bowl, 3 joints, an eigth of some wicked smelly but potent shit, and my lighter, all in my front pocket. So, I do what I always do when I'm nervous; I get overly cordial. (Don't ask)
Me: "Hello!"
My mind: HOLY MOTHERFUCKING PIECE OF CHRISTMONKEY SHIT
Security hulk: "Spread your arms and stand straight please, sir."
Me: "Sure thing man."
My mind:
So he goes around me, doing the normal routine shit, and his hand hits my pocket. It lingers there for a sec, and he looks right fucking into my soul.
Me: "Oh, thats just my phone, my wallet, and my glasses case."
My mind: NOOOO DON'T LOOK IN THERE IT'S SPECIAL YOU CAN'T HAVE MY SHIT PLEASE DON'T EAT ME
Security hulk: "Ok, you're good. You can go."
Me:



My mind: Can....can I have your babies?
Saved by lax security another fucking time.

A few hours later, when the Chili Peppers finnally came on, (Goddamn traffic) it was fucking INSANE. I smoked a J to Dani California, and hit my bowl just as they opened Give It Away. And, to top it off, I came home with one of the biggest cases of the munchies I've ever had, and what is waiting for me? Rocky motherfucking Road brownies from Mikes Pastry, which is like the gratest bakery in Boston. Most fun I've had in a long long time. And to think I could have spent the night being held on minor possesion. Good times, good times.
Mike