#TBT

Maybe it's all the talk of Kraft products over the past couple of days, or it could be that I offer up a "donation" for some mandatory drug screening fun tomorrow. But an old friend came to mind for my throwback this morning...  Cheers.

I knew this guy who went by his last name, Brenneman. He came into town from Ohio the summer before my senior year of high school. He was older, probably about 23 or so. He told horrible stories about working in a cheese factory and his older cousin going to high school with Jody Watley. 

I had smoked weed many times before but had never really gotten anything from it. Then Brenneman taught me how to smoke a bong. The first time I got high I was sitting on his hand me down sofa with a tube of chapstick in my hand. I just couldn't let it go. When I finally brought myself to put some on, I dropped the cap behind the cushions. I got down on my knees and turned to slide my hand down the back of the sofa. It had a fold-out bed, and when I stuck my hand through the cushions, my arm got stuck in the bed frame bars. I giggled for what seemed like hours-twenty minutes probably- on my knees, ass in the air, with my arm stuck in a sofa while Brenneman cooked potatoes and omelets in a wok.
Why was a 17 year old girl alone with a 23 year old pot smoking man with a factory worker past? Better yet, with his questionable accreditation, how did he not take full advantage of this precarious situation?

At any rate, I ended up wasting an entire tube of chapsick. I never found the cap and it found its way onto the carpet.  And to this day I think twice about eating processed cheese food.