It was a normal saturday afternooon in the apartment. The dog was asleep in the pink couch, i was relaxed in front of the computers, probably engaged in a email. The phone rings, I answer it, it's Ian's mom. I wake him up after she asks me to, give him the phone and go back to the computer. Ian leaves his room a few seconds later, pushing out a dolly that we used to move stuff.
I wander back to the computer and continue to chat unaware at the danger i was in. Winamp, Pink Floyd and a joint later i'm enjoying my Saturday afternoon quite well. Many Saturdays have been spent like this and many more will probably follow. Complete peace and solitude.
I hear a truck pull up.
OH MY FUCKING GOD. It's Ian's dad. Now you have to take a second and imagine our roughly decorated apartment, usually fairly messy as it is, now has a huge cloud of marijuana smoke lingering in the ceiling.
Now use your imagination to imagine Ian's dad. I've talked to Ian's dad several hundred times while high, no big deal. Only problem is he's a drug and alcohol counselor and i'm well, you can see the conflict here.
I scream, and grab the dolly and start to roll the dolly out to him. If i just smell like it maybe it won't be blatantly obvious. Oh shit, he's getting out of the truck and pulling out a huge box, and now he's walking to the front door.
I ball out of the apartment rolling this dolly and greet him. He keeps walking with the box. I sigh and open the door for him.
He steps inside and Dark Side Of The Moon is starting to come to a end.
All you create, and all you destroy…
He laughs and sets the box down.
So Toad, how ya doing?
*cough* I'm doing okay…..
He walks out, I close the door, sit back at the computer and start to laugh. I kept waiting for Ian's dad, complete with a DEA bullet proof vest, to come kicking in the door screaming for me to put my hands up. Ugh it took me a day to tell Ian.