- One Friday night Jeff and I took an unplanned trip to Las Vegas. I took a dugout with some grass, leaving the pipe behind so I didn't have to worry about metal detectors. We would get some rolling papers in Las Vegas.
In the event they were not difficult to locate and we were soon good to go. As mentioned earlier, I couldn't roll a joint to save my life, but Jeff could, so he carried and used the papers throughout the weekend.
We had an enjoyable weekend, and Sunday afternoon, after getting stoned one last time, we headed for the airport. Just as we were about to enter the terminal, Jeff said "Oh, shit. Wait a minute." He walked over to a sidewalk trash container, reached into a pocket, and threw something away.
"What was that?"
I guess we were supposed to be perfectly content to carry the illegal marijuana through security and back to Chicago, but were to take no chances with the legal rolling papers.
- In the mid-1970's I had to make a business trip from Boston to somewhere, Jacksonville, I think. Airport security in the US was a much more casual matter then, and it was my habit to carry a baggie with small amount of marijuana in my briefcase, along with a small stone pipe.
Packing for this particular trip must have been done in a daydream. At the security checkpoint I put my briefcase on the conveyor belt, dumped my metallic objects into a small basket, and walked through. On the other side, a young woman approached me and asked if I would mind if she opened my briefcase. Some metallic object had caught her eye during the scan and she wanted to know what it was.
I gave the go ahead, and right there on top of everything else was the bag of marijuana. She sifted through the briefcase's contents and found whatever she was looking for, looked up at me, and in a positively frigid voice said "Thank you."
I just smiled in return and as I began to close the briefcase she dashed over to a middle aged, potbellied, gun carrying security guard. I couldn't hear what she said, but I saw him shake his head and say "No." Her voice rose and I heard her say "But I saw it." He shook his head more emphatically and walked away from her and I got my feet going too, heading for the gate before anyone changed his mind.
At a guess, airports and airlines wanted no ill will between themselves and the casual user. Presumably, anyone stupid enough to put a bag of grass on top of his briefcase contents was understood not to be a veteran dealer.
- A planning associate, Ginny, and I sometimes had to make business trips together. It was our habit to fly out on Sunday afternoon and have dinner together that night.
On one trip to Chicago, she informed me after we were airborne that she had just finished a huge meal cooked by her boyfriend's mother and really didn't have much desire to go out to dinner. *Eye*, on the other hand, had eaten very lightly in anticipation of the forthcoming dinner. Somewhat disingenuously, I told her not to worry about it.
We checked in at the Ritz-Carlton (a major convention or two had booked all the rooms at other hotels. Life was tough.). I walked her to her door, entered with her, pulled out the grass, got her to roll a joint, and we got stoned. A few minutes later dinner seemed like a good idea to her.
I went to my room and unpacked, went back and collected her, and off to dinner we went. When we got back to the hotel I walked her to her door and then headed for mine. I had just closed the door behind me when the phone rang.
"Donnie, come quick. Come over here. You have to see this."
I went back to her room and she led me over to the table with the ashtray. She had left the roach in the ashtray and while we were at dinner a maid had entered the room cleaned the ashtray, and put the roach right back into it.
As with the airport incident, the Ritz-Carlton was not going to bust a customer for the unfinished half of a joint.
I thank all of you who have followed the blog, and would like to remind anyone who might be interested that instead of having to check here for new entries you can use one of the "subscribe" links at the bottom of this page.