When you are young there is always that kid in the neighborhood that you really don’t consider a friend, but you hang out with them anyway because they are a little older and can come up with cool stuff to do.
It’s cool at least until you get caught. For my brothers and me, it was a guy named Jeff. I will leave out his last name.
Jeff had all the cool toys and parents who were less restrictive about his comings and goings. He hung out with all the trouble makers of the neighborhood, which made it even more taboo to hang out with him.
We were young and gullible and Jeff took advantage of that fact and used us for a lot of the dirty work behind his schemes.
We would take the heat and look stupid if caught. One time Jeff pulled a prank on us that would make all that other stuff look petty in comparison.
Jeff came to us one day with something he called rabbit weed. This rabbit weed at first glance looked to be no more than a dried out stem of tubular grass about the length of a cigarette.
Jeff described it as a magical plant, which when smoked gave the user a euphoric experience not unlike that of marijuana.
We lit the rabbit weed and passed it between us each taking hits from it and inhaling the smoke. We coughed and hacked and really thought we were doing something cool. He told us we hadn’t smoked enough to get the effects and offered to sell us a whole bag of the stuff, so we could get the benefits of regular use.
We pooled our money and bought the rabbit weed. We would sneak off every chance we got to puff on the magic grass and try to get a buzz, but to no avail. We kept on smoking thinking we just hadn’t had the right amount yet.
We smoked rabbit weed all summer but when my dad finally caught us with it and we told him what we were doing and why he laughed hysterically and told us we were as dumb as fence posts.
As it turned out the rabbit weed was just some grass Jeff had pulled up in his back yard and dried out. My brothers and I had spent the whole summer trying to get high smoking the actual grass from Jeff’s backyard.
I learned a valuable lesson that summer. If something sounds too good to be true it probably is and if you buy it, then my dad will think you’re dumb as a fence post.