Chapter 1 from my novel Dungeons and Dispensaries. I discover the joy of smoking cannabis for the first time.

Growing up I loved video games. My earliest memories all center around my first Sega Genesis and Sonic the Hedgehog when I was five. I even carried around a little stuffed Sonic wherever I went. I had my own little TV/VCR combo and learned how to connect my video games to the back of the TV on my own at an early age. I graduated from Sega to Super Nintendo, and then eventually Nintendo 64. I never had anything right upon release but when the price dropped enough that my paren

I can remember asking girls in school if they were Dominant or submissive and receiving a puzzled look before creeping them out further with an explanation. I would not describe myself as a lady's man in school, but I did have regular dates, girlfriends or "love interests" majority of the time. The first person to respond positively to my kinky questions was a girl I met in school named Sara. Sara was one of those punk rock alternative dressing chicks that dyed her hair funky

By my junior year in high school, I was already selling weed. I started off combining my money with a group of different friends who also smoked weed. Each Friday I would collect everyone’s money during school. Then after school I would ride my bike over to the local dealer’s house. I bought the weed and then split it up into everyone’s specific portions. I delivered each portion to each person one by one on different sides of town. Most of the time I smoked a bowl or two at

In order to get weed I had to find a new source. I was not even selling anymore at this point. I just needed weed to smoke. That summer before senior year, in order to keep me out of trouble, my dad gave me a job working for him as a house painter. I was only doing entry level tasks like covering floors and cleaning up but I managed to earn a little money. My parents did not want to give me all the money at once for obvious reasons, so they staggered it out, giving me a littl

Jason was Doogie’s best friend. He was only fourteen like Doogie but already stood 6’4. He did not look like a Freshman. Jason was smart enough not to stick around. As we stood outside the house where we had jumped the fence, the owner came out with her ear hugging her cell phone. She was describing us to someone on the phone either the cops or the school. “One of them has a black shirt that says, “Shut up stupid!” on it. The other one is wearing a black hoody and a hat.” We

Jason had a cousin named Lil Ron. Lil Ron looked the complete opposite of Jason. While Jason was ridiculously tall, Lil Ron was about 5’6. He was a short Jewish looking kid with a Justin Bieber haircut, a big nose, and an overbite. Jason looks like a young Jared Leto in the movie Requiem for a Dream. If Jared Leto was an NBA player. Jason got majority of his weed from Lil Ron. Since Jason and I started putting our money together I started getting my weed from Lil Ron as well.

My senior year in high school I started dating a girl who was a sophomore and looked like Malin Akerman. Her name was Sierra. Sierra liked to drink and dance. Her best friend Tasha was my neighbor and hosted regular high school house parties when her father was out of town. I met Sierra at one of Tasha's parties. Tasha was dating this older guy who was in his twenties. On New Years Eve he invited the three of us to come watch him perform a DJ gig at a private party in Nort

Diversion was a six-month program. You attended weekly three-hour meetings similar to AA. Except everyone there was a serious drug addict. Everyone but me. The meetings were at the community center of a nearby town. Each meeting we would go around the room, and everyone had to talk. You had to introduce yourself for anyone new or anyone who did not remember, explain how you got arrested and what your drug of choice was. Needless to say, whenever it was my turn and I said my d

As I mentioned earlier, Carson had older brothers. In Hermosa Beach the Santini family was actually pretty well known. The oldest brother Bobby had been one of the leaders of a local surfer gang called H.B. Bobby was built like Carson except buff and taller. Most people in the area were afraid of him because like Carson he also had a temper. All the Santini brothers were members of H.B. except for Carson. In high school I had seen members of H.B. beat the crap out of some g

Trent “Dyno Mutt” Dade was the group mooch. His mother passed away when he was very young, and his dad worked a full-time job as a plumber. He was mostly raised by his older sisters. We had one main rule at the garage. If you showed up on a night when we were drinking and smoking and expected to drink or smoke you needed to contribute. You needed to bring money, weed, or drinks. Dyno never had any money. Or weed. Or Drinks. Most days he would earn bong rips and alcohol by doi

I started seeing a psychiatrist after my ordeal with the law. I felt a lot of guilt for what happened. I felt like I had already ruined my life so early. I was paranoid about getting arrested again and isolated from a lot of my friends due to rumors from school. I imagined the detectives were still watching me even though I had nothing to be watched for. I felt like every time I went into a store, lost prevention followed me around. Every cop car on the street was destined to

Jason was living on the East Coast. His grandmother owned a large estate on an acreage outside a small town in rural New Jersey. Jason was born and raised in Los Angeles. To say this was a culture shock would be an understatement. The worst thing about living on the East Coast was he had no way to get weed. Jason’s grandmother was older and not the easiest person to live with or the kindest to Jason. She often lectured him about the bad decisions he had made that led to him l

I was working for my dad painting houses five days a week. It was a steady paycheck but truth be told I hated it. I saved up enough money to buy a ticket and bring spending money for a trip to New York to visit Jason. We planned my visit right around his next harvest. I flew out to New York and my mom arranged for one of her friends who lived there to pick me up from the airport and drop me off at Jason’s house. I remember it being really cold standing outside at the airport

Sara, my high school Dominatrix, moved out of state to Las Vegas after graduation. We remained friends on Myspace over the years but did not talk much. Myspace was the original social media website for those who are under thirty. I would describe it as Facebook with freedom of speech. I had casually mentioned coming to hang out with Sara while on vacation in her area, but it never panned out. After Sara, I dated a few women, but they all were very submissive and never really

One night Sara suggested we go to a local bar called Pitcher Place for some drinks with a few friends from high school. The night went by pretty calmly. I had invited John Ripley, and Sara had invited Mandy, and they were hitting it off. They were both alcoholics, so they had that in common. I was excited at the prospects of us potentially double dating in the future. I shared a pitcher of bud light with John while Sara drank Cactus Cooler shots with a few girls. We were all

After a few months together I paid for Sara and I to get our medical marijuana prescriptions at a shady doctor's office in Venice Beach. This allowed us to bypass any shady street dealers or middlemen and buy our weed from legal shops called dispensaries. In the earlier days of Legal Medical Marijuana in California it was difficult to get a medical card. Nowadays you could go to these shops on the Venice boardwalk and get a year prescription for $100. You waited in line. Fill

Carson was only in town every year for four months or so. When he went back up North, we had to rely on getting weed from dispensaries. One year right before Carson headed back North, he asked me to come over to his house. Since his house was near the beach, I rode my bike and planned to go for a beach cruise afterwards. When I got to Carson’s house, he tells me he is leaving to go back North in a few hours. He has been growing this special weed plant in his back patio. It's

Over time I became a regular at the dungeon. We actually lived about 30-45 minutes away from the dungeon and when Sara drove to work alone, she would not be able to use the carpool lane. This resulted in the 45-minute trip taking an hour and 30. She would find excuses to bring me with her when I was off from work. Most of the time it was handyman style odd jobs. There were times when I was not allowed inside the dungeon for various reasons. On those days I would wander Downto