The events of this story take place during the summer of 2010 or as I like to call it my "Stoner Summer". I don't mean that as it was the first time I smoked, I mean it as it was when I really became a stoner. Up until that summer I was more of a social smoker. If someone would offer it to me I'd smoke but I had never bought it and wasn't a daily smoker. Right before graduation that year I had helped my sister move into a new apartment. Fortunately for me that apartment was next to a buddy of mine who was a stoner and smoked all the time. I believe this was the start of my turn from social to becoming a stoner. The apartment was in town so I would walk there after school or get a ride most days. So I ended up spending a lot of time getting high. About a month or so into this was graduation, and with graduation comes parties and money from family for your future. I spent my money on pretty much two things a tattoo and my first piece. It was a decent sized spoon pipe light blue and a light peach color. I ended up calling it princess peach. (I ended up losing it still no clue where it went, man I miss that bowl.) At about the end of June beginning of July I started hanging out with my cousin and her bf. They introduced me to my soon to be dealer and my first experience buying some green. I still remember how nervous I felt buying it for the first time. I was sober and super paranoid, looking back I always laugh at my self. The guy ended up taking a liking to me and pretty soon we were good friends. He would give me extra and smoke me up all the time. I spent more time going to parties and getting to know more and more of his crew. Eventually they would fall apart as he was fucking my cousin for weed and her bf found out about it. During all that there was an older couple her lived across the road from my cousin. The wife is a Native American who was a model in California during the mid to late 60's and the husband an local hippie. We spent a lot of time talking and smoking with them. One thing I have to say is it is cool as hell getting super baked in a tipi. The wife's name was Glo and the husband Dave. Glo would tell us stories about her getting fucked up back in the 60's and was very much into alternative healing. During this time my distrust of big Pharma grew and grew. I'll admit up until that point I looked at weed as a means to get high and that's it. Glo really taught me about the good it does for many. I would also start to educate myself. Dave would tell us stories of Woodstock and life in the 60's and 70's. We would sit around their table all night long smoking,drinking coffee and just talking. Two things I remember the most is that Glo refused to use an electric coffee pot, she would only use a percolator. If you have never used one to make coffee I highly suggest it, it tastes so much better. Second she rolled her own cigarettes, with a giant hand roller. At the time I was a really heavy smoker and she would always give me a full pack when I left. After we would get done smoking a bowl,chillum, joint or whatever we decided to smoke that night all you could smell would be coffee and cigarettes. By the end of August my cousin her bf and I would move into one of their buddies houses. It would only last about two months as their other addictions took them over and I stopped hanging out them as I saw I was headed down the same path. I also found my future wife and with her help I was able to clean myself back up. By the end of December I would be totally sober of everything, until about 2 years later but that's a different story. There are things that I have obviously forgotten and did not add. For the last few weeks the smell of coffee or cigarettes brings these memories rushing back and I don't know why but I have felt compelled to write them down. Sent from my iPhone using Grasscity Forum