I've got a little story to share, not a long one but a simple short one.
One day I picked up around a half oz of some purple haze in my late teen years and I rolled myself some blunts. During this time I was living at my father's house with my stepmother and their kids. The blunt I rolled was ready and I realized I didn't have a lighter on me so I had to think of something. I sneaked outside my room to head into the kitchen... Looking around, the only option I really had to light my beauty was through the warmth of a stove.
The coils turned red and the warm air turned to scalding heat around my fingers as I attempted to light my blunt. Not a dangerous situation, yet it was an intense one as the smell lifted into the air and the feelings of anxiety began to climb. There, the smell was consistent, and the blunt lit up as I hastily take a few puffs so I too can get 'lit up' in celebration. Completed, Job done! I rushed to turn off the stove and twisted the nozzle to hear the click of the off switch, with that sound I imagined the firing of a gun that initiates the start of a race and begin the trek back. Scurrying back to the room like a monkey who stole a banana, but then I quickly become civilized as I close my bedroom door only to revert to something else.
Become Smeagol, with a precious, I did. Cherishing my assumed victory, I enjoyed myself. The gaming channel blares the noises of my people * nerdy gamer raging noises *, as I slowly enjoy the spoils of this endeavor. Halfway through bliss, my father bangs on the door knock knock knock, and my smile utters an "oh shiiiit". I reluctantly open the door, without preparation, and my father scolds me for the smell that has apparently filled my brother's bedroom door and he demands me to give him my green gold.
Demanding me to enter the restroom with him, my father opens the bag of marijuana and dumps it ALL into the toilet and the blunt I had. My father looks at me while making a total reasonable point about why I shouldn't be smoking, as I look at my dreams and the money I spent go all down the drain. Everything I worked for flowed away with the current...
... My father now owes me one-hundred and something dollars.
Maybe I should ask for it for Christmas. LOL