Stoner vs. The Stoned
Stoners will eventually all come to the point in life life when they must ask themselves a very basic question: am I a stoner or just stoned? Introspection can be a bit sticky to a stoner and flat-out paralyzing to someone who’s not used to being high. Let’s clarify the basic differences between the two. A stoner can always, more or less, function and navigate waking life while blitzed. This will always be an advantage to the stoner over the stoned. The phrase, “I’m too high to do this” isn’t in a true stoner’s lexicon. When stoners hear someone use that phrase, they tend to cock their head to the side, like a curious puppy. Too stoned? That’s just…weird.
But to the detriment of the stoner, there will always be the unwarranted issue of credibility. Non-smokers love to play that card: The “you’re just stoned; what you say doesn’t have to make sense to me.” card. The stoner, no stranger to getting caught in this trap, will invariably reply, “Well, yeah! So what? That doesn’t make me wrong.” If agitated, (and many stoners are surprisingly easy to agitate) they’ll sometimes even add something to the effect of, “I don’t think you’ve ever seen me not stoned. I make it a point to get high before I even talk to you…it’s kinda the only way I can be around you.” After the awkward silent passes, the stoner, fully aware of his or her snobbery, will try a quick fix, obligatory statement like, “I mean, I love you and all. I respect your opinion, it’s just…” The second awkward silence begins.
The casual smoker will always benefit from the stoner’s innate nature to act as a guide to the innocent, almost child-like nature of their counterparts. Like a visit from someone who lives in the country to the big, bad city, the stoner is obliged to be as gracious a host as possible to their fish-out-of-water visitors. Easy to impress and startle, the weekend smoker won’t ask for a drink of water, but will proclaim how dry their mouth has become. This is how they ask for a drink. Again, the stoner’s head slightly tilts, and they try to remember a time when they, themselves, were merely freshmen. “Would you like something to drink?” asks Stoner.
“Dude, that would be so awesome!” exclaims the ever-grateful weekend warrior. After a few remarks on how tasty the water is, the two seamlessly glide into their respective roles. It’s like The Odd Couple, rebooted.
The Achilles Heel of the stoner is over-confidence and pride. Luckily, the universe always finds a clever way to keep the stoner from becoming an elitist prick. Sometimes the cocky stoner meets his match in another stoner, holding some Blue Cheese, or maybe even some hash, and a vaporizer. Ten minutes later, our stoner says, “Man, I’m too…I can’t even talk, my mouth is so…I gotta go.” Worse for the wear, but wearing it well, he retreats to his domicile with a slightly bruised ego, but then, an epiphany: He remembers how it felt to be that freshman. The universe blows a smoke ring in the name of balance. Think Green.