It is Friday, let me paint a picture for you.
I came back to the hostel from class after sitting through a test I knew nothing about.
“A Hard Day’s Night” is playing on Spotify. Well, it has been a hard day with all the classes, running after teachers with queries I now wish I didn’t have, that one surprise of a test, and all too on an empty stomach since morning.
‘I don’t need food, I need some sleep.’
But it’s Friday afternoon, the weekends have just started, and as I enter the room my friend is sitting on my bed with a bottle of whiskey and a smile wider than B.B. King squatting down on his chair with Lucille (his guitar, live at Montreux in 1993).
‘Exams are over!’, he said. Well they were, and within a couple of hours, so was the bottle.
We devoured that bottle over some Blues and unlikely incidents of the day.
Drunk and dazed, off he goes to bed and I go to sit with the stoners in search of some entertainment.
There’s always entertainment in the Stoners’ Landing. The Landing where different cultures reside together in harmony — cultures with different languages, different customs, different eating habits, different slangs, all brought together by a measly weed.
So I go and lie down on a bed there by a friend of mine sitting with his back towards me.
I’ll call him Ben for the sake of this story (because he owns a Benelli).
I can hear Ben scolding a friend of his. I know that guy sitting there with his eyes more red than that of a crying 14y/o after her first breakup; eyes so red, they’d put a baboon’s butt to shame.
He had been scolding him for smoking so much, speculating that he should study a bit, hang out with them a bit. He is losing his friend to a shit drug (and I am not talking about weed).
As the guy tries to argue with him, Ben gets enraged, his voice roars through the room as everybody else tries to make jokes to calm the situation down. I try a few, but the matter is already under control, Ben has kept it that way.
Ben tells him that they don’t hang out that much all day long, only to meet at night going to sleep staring at their respective phones.
His concern is real, I can hear it in Ben’s voice. But after 20 minutes of argument everyone comes to a consensus, the guy agrees to reduce smoking if not stop it. They hug it out but make sure it still is manly enough.
Ben looks at me next and laughs, asks me something and passes me the lighter while pressing the bong to his mouth. It’s Friday, the weekends have just started.
Was I able to paint a picture? Let me know in the Comment how you feel.
If you liked this, read “How Kapi got the Balloon.” I bet you will LOVE it.
And as always, don’t forget to Like, Comment and Share. We need a little motivation too.