02.18.2016
culture

I Got Too High on Edibles at Sleigh Bells; Will Never Eat Again

Except maybe if I'm really hungry.

I recently realized that any of my friends who had stories about bad marijuana experiences involved an edible. When you’re smoking, it’s easy to be like, “Oh this is an appropriate level of highness. I am now going to stop smoking so I don’t freak out.”

Smoking, you’re very much in control and dictating your feelings. With an edible, you just toss it into your hole and hope for the best. You’re like Carrie Underwood, but instead of letting Jesus take the wheel, you’re turning it over to whoever made these weed brownies.

I had a few experiences with edibles where I had gotten a little too high. They were all in very controlled environments, like my house or a good friend’s house; so it wasn’t that bad. One time I was high and thought a delicious chocolate bar was just a tasty treat. It was not. I was high out of my mind and just went to bed at 6 p.m. so I wouldn’t have to deal with it. It wasn’t a big deal at all.

However, there was one time that things didn’t go so well. It was the one moment that turned me off edibles for good. At least I’m off them for a while, anyway.

Sleigh Bells was in town for a concert last year and I couldn’t have been more excited. The first time I saw them was one of the greatest shows I’ve ever seen in my life. The crowd was hyped, the set was fire, and it was just all around an incredible experience.

This time it was in a very intimate venue where you could press up against the stage and truly get the full experience of the show. It was general admission. Like any responsible fan, I got there as soon as the doors opened so I could get a good spot. There’s never really a point in that because the 80th person is only inches behind the first, and they showed up 45 minutes later.

For all I know, they could’ve done a dramatic reading of 'How The Grinch Stole Christmas,' and I wouldn’t have known the difference.

I had the brilliant idea of taking an edible before the show. I figured if it was that good sober, imagine how great it’ll be if I’m super high. In theory that's a great idea.

My friend had gotten the edible from the shop. I had taken some of their edibles before. I felt like I knew the appropriate amount to take. We sat in his car as I casually split the fudge it in half and tossed half of it back.

He says, “Wow you’re really going for it tonight, huh?”

He took a small bite off the corner of the half I had left for him. This was not a good sign. I am much more of a lightweight than he is. Normally, he would take much more than me. That’s when I learned that it wasn’t a normal edible. It was made with hash oil and a lot of it. The shop he bought it from even sold a cookie that would bring you down from the high if you took too much. My friend didn’t pick up one of those.

I tried convincing myself it would all be fine. I’ve been really high before and just rode it out. As long as I keep a positive state of mind and a good mood, I’ll be golden.

We walked into the venue. I was already feeling it, but it wasn’t bad. It was pretty nice. The venue was still fairly empty so we found a spot to stand near the stage. I figured if I immediately posted up and knew where I’d be standing the entire night, everything would be fine.

Let me stop right here and clarify. I realize I’m a dumb idiot and caused all of this myself. I should have taken way less of the edible. I should have gone home after taking way too much. I should have just sat down in a chair somewhere. I know all of these things now.

The actual concert wouldn't start for another 45 minutes. I was already reaching the pinnacle of how high I would ever want to be. My body felt weightless. My eyes were so red it looked like they were doing gonzo marketing for Taylor Swift’s 2012 hit album. I looked like I had been wearing the same pair of contacts since 1997 and spent every morning having a toddler dump sand into my eyes.

Here’s how the next four minutes of my life went:

Okay this is good.

Okay still good.

All righty that’s high enough.

Yep this is the most high I should be.

Oh what’s that? We’re still going?

Oh no.

I don’t remember what people are.

If level 10 was the highest I wanted to be, I was on level 87. It got to the point where I realized that the appropriate thing to do in this scenario was to stand up and participate in the concert. My legs said, “LOL no. We’re done here.”

I sat down on the front of the far right side of the stage. I might be able to wait it out. The next thing I knew, I was lying on my side. I was soaring through a universe of binary code. Remember at the end of The Matrix, when Neo hangs up the phone and soars off into the air? That was me—except instead of wearing a cool jacket and fighting robots trying to control the world, I was an idiot curled up in the fetal position in the corner of a venue wearing a Say Anything shirt that was now covered in that sticky residue that coats the bottom of your shoes after every concert.

I’m not being dramatic. I don’t remember a single song from the entire concert. I couldn’t tell you if there was an opener. I don’t even know if Sleigh Bells was there. For all I know, they could’ve done a dramatic reading of How The Grinch Stole Christmas, and I wouldn’t have known the difference. 

No one, including my dumb friend, came by to be like, “Excuse me sir, are you dying? Do you need your stomach pumped or maybe a glass of water?”

Someone involved with the venue should have been a little more alarmed, but that’s a conversation I did not want to experience. At one point, a girl approached me—a stranger lying on the ground—shook my shoulder and said, “Hey buddy. You’re gonna miss the show.”

My friend came by and said, “Wow that was a great concert!”

Clearly he was very concerned for his crumpled heap of a pal. He loaded me into his car. I guess I went home. I vowed to never touch another edible again. If I do, it certainly won’t be at a concert.

By the way, Sleigh Bells, if you’re reading this and happened to have noticed a semi conscious ghoul lying in front of the stage on your last tour, that was me. My bad. 

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