Originally Posted by Polyploid
(by accident, of course) ;)
This is a true story of what happened to me back in 1975 as a 15 year-old stoner growing up in SoCal. I just thought I'd share, it still makes me chuckle, even 30 years later...
Way back when, thirty years ago, when I was in high school, I decided that I wanted to grow some pot.
So I got some seeds, brought them home, and planted them in some containers in the backyard.
My Mom asked me what I was doing, and so I told her.
"I found these seeds in the gutter walking home from school", I said. "I'm going to do an experiment and plant them to see what they are." :)
She admired my ambition, and she helped me plant them.
A month later, they were a foot tall or so, and doing well. At first, my Mom was sure they were the tomato plants I told her they were, but after they grew a bit more, she wasn't sure. But she thought they were pretty. And she also helped me water them.
Well, one day, my younger sister had "Drug Orientation Day" in school (you know, when the nice policeman brings in the plastic marijuana plant to the classroom and talks to the kids about drugs). :(
Later that day, my little sister runs home from school yelling, "Mom!...Mom!!!!...Rick is growing Pot!!!...Rick is growing Pot!!". :eek:
My Mom couldn't believe it, and I wasn't about to let on. ;)
Well, the next thing I know, my Mom wants to find out if the plants are actually marijuana or not, so she decides to take them down to the local Armstrong's Garden Center for a positive identification. She asked me if I wanted to go with her.
Duh!!..."Okay, if that's what you really want, Mom", I say. (At this point, I'm not letting these plants out of my sight!).
And so we hop into the car and take the plants down to Armstrong's so Mom can find out if they're actually pot or not. We walk into the nursery, Mom is carrying one of the plants in her arms, and we make our way up to the counter where there was a young man with long hair (remember, this is 1975). So, (with his eyes on my plant), the nice man behind the counter says, "Hello Mrs. Jones, how can we help you today?" (my Mom is a regular customer).
So, here I am. A 15 year-old, long-haired loadie, standing at the counter at Armstrong's Garden Center with my Mom by my side. One of my pot plants is on the counter and the other two are out in the car. The nice man behind the counter is suppressing a smile, has one eye on my Mom, one eye on the plant, and keeps glancing at me with a knowing grin.
"Well," my Mom says, "We were wondering if you could tell me if this is a marijuana plant, or not." At this point, the Armstrong guy almost lost it, but kept his composure long enough to reply, "I'm not sure Mrs. Jones, but let me take it back and have it identified by our Plant Specialist." So he picked it up and took it back into a room behind the counter where there were some other employees working. I could hear some whispering, and then a few light chuckles, and then a lot of muffled laughter coming from the room behind the counter. :p
After a few minutes, our Armstrong guy came back out with the plant and placed it on the counter in front of us. So here we are again. Me, my Mom, the plant, and the Armstrong guy. "Yes, Mrs. Jones," the guy says, "I'm afraid our Plant Specialist has identified this as a marijuana plant." And then, looking my Mom straight in the eye, he says, "Would you like to sell it?"!!!! :eek:
At this point, I'm about ready to pee my pants! My Mom and I are about to sell a marijuana plant to Armstrong's Garden Center!! Well, needless to say, Mom and I discussed it and decided not to. We agreed that I could keep one (as long as "no leaves disappeared"), and we would toss the other two. :dance:
My Mom and I still laugh about what happened. I hope you enjoyed the story.
Keep Tokin' !! :stoned:
