420 (the world’s unofficial weed smoking holiday) is a momentous occasion. Yesterday it fell during Tam Tams and Easter AND Passover for the first time in anyone’s recent memory. Instead of watching planet earth and eating gummy worms with my roommates, I decided to celebrate by going to Tam Tams and smoking with a bunch of strangers.
I packed eight joints, with the plan of trying to smoke all of them.
Pre-cannabis, glowing with the innocence and sobriety of a small child
I got there around 3. People were dancing, drumming, smoking, and lurking in the woods. This guy jumped on the lion statue and nobody seemed to notice. The smell of weed drifted through the crowd.
I smoked my first joint with Branden and his friends. Branden was born in Charlottetown, PEI and wishes he had a dog here in Montreal.
I smoked my second joint with Maya and her friends. They held a quiet wisdom as we snacked on hummus and crackers.
Number three was with Kimberly. She’s from Montreal and can cross her eyes really well.
The smoke rose and the clouds rolled in as the clock struck 4:20 PM, making it look like 1980’s Kosovo.
I smoked with these guys next. The ground was starting to fascinate me, or something
This was the fattest joint I’d seen that day, so I sat down and asked if I could smoke with them. They were pumped to go to a rave later.
I wanted to cuddle with this guy and ride off on a tandem bicycle together. But I couldn’t. So I smoked a joint with him
I smoke my last joint with these girls. They were photographers here in Montreal. My mouth was really dry, and their voices sounded like angels playing harp in a neverending cloud.
It had been a long day. My eyes looked like they had been dipped in hot sauce, and UFO’s were staring to seem like a plausible reality. Happy 420.