Op-Ed: Everybody Knows You’re High
Your fears are well-founded, my cherisher of cannabis; everyone knows that you are high right now. You’re sitting there, reading this article on your favorite day of the year, and everyone can tell that you’re blazed. You walked through Rand today and sniffed a little, trying to see if your shirt smelled like that pleasing plant. You couldn’t smell anything, but everyone else could. They caught a whiff of the weed and watched as you tried to walk innocently but just a little too fast to be normal. Those kids sitting by that mind-warping mural near the Rand Munchie? They saw you start just a little bit when you saw the life-sized vegetables drawn on the wall, and they knew that you had been smoking some sativa.
Your eyes are bloodshot and dilated, and that professor you stopped to talk to wasn’t absently drinking his coffee, he was analyzing the state of your eyes. He looked you up and down, saw your lazy sweats on a Wednesday, and smelled a lingering trace of too-much Febreze. Your sentences were coherent, albeit roundabout in their route to the point. He could hear your headphones dangling at your side, blasting Paramore and three different Wonderwall remixes, consecutively. You couldn’t figure out how to pause your “Melodic Mary Jane” playlist before you stopped to talk, and now there goes another Spotify ad - you can’t afford a premium subscription because of your hash habit.
Allied Barton noticed you smacking your lips as you fumbled for your Commodore Card. Your mouth is so dry they could practically see the lack of moisture there. They watched you head straight to Munchie, knowing you would pick the pizza rolls in the freezer, look at them, and nod to yourself as you figured they were a great idea. They planted those Cheetos right on that eye-level shelf as a trap for the lovers of the leisure lettuce. The ID checker isn’t watching the American Idol finale on their old Samsung Galaxy, they’re calling for backup to pick you up and take you down to the station. The CSO down the block is narrowing his eyes as you cross the street with your pizza rolls. They know you’re high. They’re going to catch you. You might as well just turn yourself in.