>Great – now I have a contact high, too

>OK, I don’t really have a contact high, but I do have a headache from the copious amounts of pot smoke wafting out of my downstairs neighbors’ kitchen door, which, like mine, is located on the back stairs that also lead to the basement, which is where I’m doing my post-flood laundry (see post below). The fact that the smoke is coming from the kitchen suggests that they are smoking a lot of pot, because the bedrooms, living room, and den would all be much more comfortable for such an activity, and they’re all a few rooms down from the kitchen.

This may explain why there’s bad ’80s music coming from their apartment as well. Normally they have better and hipper taste.

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15 thoughts on “>Great – now I have a contact high, too

  1. >But what if the neighbors are lighting up in an effort to relax after cleaning up buckets of sink water leaking into their apartment? Perhaps it was all too much for them and they need to retreat into their happy place where it is still the 1980s (NOT my happy place, for sure) and pot makes everything ok?Just kidding, I am sure none of the water leaked downstairs…

  2. >Indeed, they are the same neighbors, Lecturess, but in their defense, they reserve “grown up” activities for when he is with his mother, who lives elsewhere. (The couple downstairs are his biological father and his stepmother.)And at least when they are smoking out and the kid isn’t there, it’s very, very quiet down there (well, except for the ’80s music, but that has stopped now.)

  3. >Contact highs and eighties music…ah, memories. The one and only time I ever got high it was a contact high obtained at a Dead Milkmen concert. I was extremely naive, and my date had to explain to me why — on the drive home from the funny-smelling concert –I was suddenly, inexplicably and ravenously hungry. (Like a wolf, perhaps?)Unfortunately, I don’t have any excuse for my awful taste in music. I’ve just learned to embrace the geekdom.

  4. >HeoCwaeth — LOL. That’s a hilarious story.And ADM, perhaps they were *also* baking — to feed their munchies, of course — but the sickly sweet smell I recognized from their apartment was most definitely cheap pot. 🙂

  5. >Ladies and gentlemen: my big brother the former pothead. 🙂 Wait, ’68?! You were *14*!!! Damn! So, um, in two years will you teach your daughter the difference? Kidding!As for how I know the difference…well, I’m a “contact high connoisseur,” having had way too many friends who were actual connoisseurs, despite being such a goodie-goodie myself

  6. >my parents can’t remember what happened 5 minutes ago.Sad but true. Though knowing them, if we told them about such things as pot smoking they *would* remember that. Hey, good thing they don’t have computers!

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