Long Weekend

It was the Queen’s Birthday long weekend. Mark and Luke invited us up to the country. 

“Come up, come up, we’ll cook great food and relax, it will be great,” said Luke.

“There is no one we’d rather spend the long weekend with,” said Mark.

Lovely. Ah, three days in the country, just what long weekends are made for.

“I’ll bring the pot,” I said. I’m not stupid, I want to smoke all the pot I wanted to.

We left Friday, so we had four days away.

I smoked pot all long, lazy weekend, lying on the couch for days, up the country. All day, like a jelly having been removed from its mould... wobble, wobble, wobble, I didn’t move much more than that, other than to grab at the mull mix and roll another.

Well, I mean I ask you, what else does one do on the Queen's Birthday long week end? I ask you? 

I was lying on the couch on my back with my legs over the arm of the couch with my head on Matt’s knee, as he was looking at his iPad, stoned off my face yet again, when Mark suggested that he and Luke might want some time to themselves.

“Oh? Okay then. Sure,” I said. “Would you like us to go to the cabin?”

“I was thinking more permanent space,” said Mark.

“More permanent…” my brain was just a few moments behind my mouth. “Oh.” My mind pulled out of relaxed, stoned, jelly, fabulousness, my pupils contracted to focus on Mark’s face, which I could see was serous. We were being asked to leave. “Yeah… sure… I see.”

I can't say I wasn't, er, um, hurt would be way overstating it, taken aback, shocked, maybe. I went into auto pilot to gather up all of our things, unexpectedly.

We left not long after, late afternoon. 

I think Mark found me too lazy (ha ha) and too stoned to cope with. (pot calling the kettle, but it is their house, of course, what can you do?) 

I even bought all the pot for the weekend and the cigarettes with which to roll my joints and still they weren’t happy. The deal was that Mark would give me half the money. So, right at the end, feeling a little bad about it all, I said, 

“You don’t have to give me any money, but give me what’s left of my half.”

Mark wanted to keep it all for himself. He turned into the middle child and snatched the dope bag away from me, when I pulled out a too bigger bud to take, he snatched the dope out of my hand.

“Seriously?”

Mark can be like that, so no surprise. He is, literally, the middle child in his family, after all.

Matt looked at me with his cheeky face, as I slipped the car into reverse and looked over my left shoulder in readiness to back up.

“I think we got kicked out, darling.” Devilish grin.

"We got kicked out, honey." I couldn't help but smile. I kissed Matt. Team Us! We didn't care, what the hell! It was probably true, after all. Just far too relaxed.

Ex-boyfriends, there is no counting on them. Ha ha.

Matt and I kept looking at each other all the way home and laughing. “We got kicked out, honey.”

Giving it some thought later, they’d probably organised for some ‘trade’ to come over, some country guy with floppy hair and a big dick. Some 20 year old farm boy named Lachlan who gives it and takes at the same time. Oh yeah, there is something in that alright. I get it. As his jocks come down and his semi bounces into view. 

"I've never done this before," he says. That’s moments before he shoves himself up Luke's arse and starts riding Luke. And Luke wails out for more being the total bottom that he is. And the farm boy works his thick thighs faster. Then the farm boy gets speared in his own arse by Mark, letting out a huge yelp as he’s never quite been pinned like that before. Yeah, I get it.

It's still rude, guests are guests. A 'better' offer doesn't quite cut it. But, yeah, I understand, ex-boyfrends are what they are. Would I do that to them? No, probably not, quite frankly, I wouldn't. But, whatever, who cares.

And all of that disappears into the back ground as Matt and I giggle all the way home about being kicked out. I role joints when we get home, wishing Matt enjoyed pot way more than he does.

Oh, about my fitness to drive, I know the nanas amongst you are thinking? Well, getting thrown out of somewhere sure sobers you up in a hurry, let me tell you. All that adrenaline expelled sweeping one’s belonging together trying not to feel personally pissed off with what had just transpired, takes you back to a very definite sense of normal, I can assure you. 

The real truth of the matter, if you are drunk and you relax and trust your instincts, you will drive off the road. If you are stoned and you relax and trust your instincts, you will be just fine. It is a universal truth.