Life is Life

It has been more than four months since I last smoked a joint. Four months but who is counting? I am.

Marijuana is not addictive, at least, physically it is not.

But life, life always gets in the way of sanity. With nothing to smoke and a general lack of tolerance for alcohol, there is not much to do besides go insane.

The worst part of it all is that the majority of people that I hang out with in this city do not smoke. How they manage life is beyond me. Most of them live on a supplementary diet of Lexapro, Effexor, Cymbalta, Zoloft or Prozac. Most of them mix a bunch. But not me, I was never one for pharmaceuticals.

The most annoying thing is that these people see no irony in their condescending ways.

Take Josh for instance, he may just be the perfect example.

We met up in the coffee shop like we always do. He and his bullshit stories about the movie business, his auditions and all of the women he is screwing on a regular. I could easily sniff through people’s lies, and this guy was not exception. Josh was more likely to take one up the ass than he is to eat a piece of pussy pie.

“So what’s new Mr. Hollywood?” I asked.
“Oh my God, you would never believe the week I had. I am so close to getting an agent I tell you. I can just feel it. Last Tuesday, I had a second call for an audition. It is for an off Broadway but this is something big I tell you. This could be the break I was looking for.”

He went on and on but I was not really listening. By now, I just learned how to shut people off. I was too old for their bullshit. So why did I keep people around? Well, it beat the hell out of staring at the walls of my apartment.

After he told me about the blond with the huge tits that begged him for more. After he further went into details about the casting agent and the producers that he met at the grand opening of the Itch Gallery down in Soho. After he went on and on. I could stand it no more.

“You know Josh, if I don’t score some Marijuana soon, I may just go insane. Can’t you score me a dime bag from one of your homo friends down in Chelsea? Can’t you hook a brother up?”

“Oh grow up already, will you? What kind of a forty year old still smokes pot anyways? Gosh, don’t you think it is kind of pathetic to smoke weed at your age? And you, a university professor and all, what will become of you? What if somebody found out?”

What will become of me? What will become of any of us? I do not know.

Life is life and life is hard enough. Somehow, someway, we all find a way to get by.

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