my totally pathetic experience with drugs, or why cheech and chong would just roll their eyes if they met me

GUILT! GUILT! GUILT!

About 5 years ago, when I was still single and carefree, I had the opportunity to travel to Amsterdam with a very good girlfriend of mine for a long weekend. This friend (who I'll call "Mathilde" -- you know, to protect the guilty) and I were living in London at the time, working in very stressful jobs, and needed to get away.

The night before we left, we called each other to finalize our plans to meet at Heathrow airport. Both of us sounded like we had the weight of the world on our shoulders. "Girl, I am exhausted," said Mathilde. "And so stressed. I have half a mind to try some marijuana while we're there."

I started, and then inhaled excitedly. You see, I am one of those sad individuals who managed to make it through her youth having never tried any illegal substance. Ever. And since pot is legal in Amsterdam (seriously! it is!), I had been trying to figure out how to broach the subject with my friend. God bless her, she'd just opened the door.

"Um, seriously?" I said, tentatively. "Because, um, I've never done it before, and um, I was thinking that, um, maybe, perhaps, I'd give it a try."

"Seriously," she answered, gravely. "I've never done it before, either, but this job? Is driving me to do it. We'll try it when we're there."

When we met at the airport, both of us laughed nervously at each other. "I can't believe we're going to do this," she said. "Me neither," I giggled. You would've sworn that we were 12.

After an extensive conversation on the plane, we decided that we would try it the following night. We also decided that we would see if we could get it in edible form, rather than cigarette form, since neither of us had ever smoked a cigarette, either (I KNOW!), and we were afraid of getting sick.

The next night, we treated ourselves to a fine dinner at one of Amsterdam's most well-known restaurants. After dinner, we paid the bill, and looked at each other knowingly. It was time.

We walked, dressed in our elegant skirts, and sensible shoes, and modest clutch purses, to one of the bigger "coffeeshops" in Amsterdam, known as Grasshopper. We opened the door, and a cloud of smoke and Bob Marley hit us immediately.

Nervously, we wandered over to the counter, where a very sensible-looking young girl smiled at us. "May I help you?"

We started giggling. "Umm... yes. We'd like, ummm..." We could barely get the words out.

"Would you like something to smoke?" she asked, helpfully. She indicated at the large glass case in front of her, which looked like something out of a botany lab. "We have many..."

"Oh, uh, no," I interrupted. "We'd rather have something to, you know, eat." I may have winked at her. I was just loser enough to wink at her.

"Oh," she said, "Well, unfortunately, we don't sell any cakes here. But about 4 streets away, there's a bakery, and that's all they sell. You might want to try there."

"Thank you," said Mathilde, and we fled the shop.

Not willing to give up yet, we made our way to the bakery (which, for the life of me, I cannot remember its name). We walked in -- and it looked just like your normal, everyday, neighbourhood bakery, save for the COMPLETELY STONED attendants behind the counter.

"Umm... can we have a piece of one of your cakes, please?" asked Mathilde. The wasted girl behind the counter indicated to a display case, filled with chocolate cakes, covered in coloured sprinkles. They look like children's birthday cakes, I thought to myself.

Mathilde pointed to one. "We'll have some of that one," she said.

"One slice, or two?" asked Stoner Girl.

"ONE!" Mathilde and I said in unison, perhaps a little two quickly and loudly.

"For here, or take away?"

We looked at each other. "Maybe we should take it back to our hotel and eat it," said Mathilde. "You know, in case Anything Happens."

"Take away," I answered Stoner Girl. She sliced a generous portion, placed it in a brown paper bag, and took our money.

Mathilde and I practically ran back to the hotel, the bag placed surreptitiously under my coat (I have NO idea why, it wasn't like we were breaking the law). Once we arrived at the hotel, Mathilde looked at me.

"Why don't you go put on your pajamas, and then meet me in my room. It's probably a good idea if we change into sleepwear, you know, in case Anything Happens."

Okay, I have no idea what we thought would happen, but sadly, this suggestion seemed like good common sense to me. I went up to my room, changed into my pajamas, and returned to Mathilde's room and knocked on the door.

We sat on the bed, and opened up the bag. We placed the cake on the bed. And then we stared at it.

"Well, go ahead," said Mathilde. "Try some."

"You try some."

"No, you."

"Oh for Christ's sake," I said. "Fine. I'll try some." I broke off a small piece of the cake, and put it in my mouth.

Mathilde looked at me eagerly. "What does it taste like?"

"Umm, it tastes like..." I said, munching slowly. "..umm....it tastes like cake. Like mediocre, dry, store-bought cake."

Mathilde's face fell. "Really?" she took a bite. "Oh. It does."

We ate as much as we could stomach, and then we waited.

And waited.

After two hours of watching bad Dutch TV, I looked at Mathilde. "Um, I'm not feeling anything. Are you?"

"Not a damned, thing," she said. "And I'm sleepy."

"Me too," I said. "I'm going back to my room. G'night."

"G'night."

I returned to my room, sober as a judge. I ended up forcing myself to stay awake for another two hours, in the hopes of feeling ...something. No dice.

The next morning, over breakfast, Mathilde and I decided that the whole experience was pretty much a bust. "Should we try again tonight?" Mathilde asked.

"Um, I don't think so. I mean, we're in our mid-thirties. It's sort of sad to be trying pot for the first time in our mid-thirties, isn't it?"

Mathilde, took a deep breath, relief sweeping across her face. "Yes. I agree. Let's go shopping, instead."

Since that time, however, I can never look at a chocolate cake with coloured sprinkles without thinking about that fateful night. And every time I make a chocolate cake with coloured sprinkles (for Alex's birthday, say), or worse, Alex helps me make a chocolate cake with coloured sprinkles (like the one we made yesterday for Marcus' birthday, shown above), I can't help feeling a strong pang of guilt. I'm a bad mother, I think to myself. I'm sitting here, subconsciously introducing my daughter to the seedy drug underworld, merely by baking this cake. I'm a bad, bad, mom. And the guilt stays with me until the last bite is consumed.

And so, dear readers, please heed my advice, lest the same fate befall you:

If you're ever in Amsterdam, go ahead and inhale. Otherwise, YOU MAY RUIN YOUR BIRTHDAY-CAKE-BAKING EXPERIENCE FOR THE REST OF YOUR NATURAL LIFE.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to grab a slice of cake. I've sort of got the munchies.

__________

Comments

[natalie]

how i love that story. thanks for sharing it. :)

[Meepers]

Put me down in the "not even a cigarette"-dork category as well. Oh well, now I know,... when in Amsterdam. That's too bad, because I have always sort of expected the cakes there to be really moist and chocolate-y and extra good. Your cake looks EXcellent!

[Kristin]

oh, that was hilarious! you got lucky on the cake, I think. I ate cake in Amsterdam and ended up on a train to Paris by myself, wearing no shoes.

[Jennifer]

That is so funny! I'm so very much that person! What a great story.

[Kimberly]

That is funn-eee!!! (halarious). I have used drugs in the past and now can't stand the stuff. I love your life.

[marian]

Yes, well darlin, I have to say it, that was pathetic! But very sweet. And the cake is lovely.

[samantha]

Oh, Karen. Thank God I'm not the one who hasn't ever tried it - I'm nearly 28 and I swear to you I just never had the opportunity. Maybe I'll have to go to Amsterdam for some cake...

This is a great story. So funny. Now push that guilt aside and eat some yummy cake.

[owlhaven]

How very funny! DO you think there actually was pot in it, or did you accidentally get one the was just normal cake?

Mary

[Chookooloonks]

Mary -- I haven't the foggiest. I will unfortunately never know.

:o),

K.

[Sylvie]

Ok that is HILARIOUS! I think I peed myself a little!

[Manicou]

Gyul, that was a funny story. Thanks for sharing.

[elsimom]

Omigosh - laughing so hard. I am so there with you - except I've not been to Amsterdam, so I've never even gotten the CHANCE to try the cake. I guess I feel pretty glad about the cigarettes, because given my willpower, I'd probably never quit if I started. Maybe the stoned workers forgot to add the "secret ingredient" - heehee.

[foodmomiac]

Karen, thanks for the laugh! As someone who was very naughty in Amsterdam, it's funny to read about someone else who was relatively well-behaved. :-)

[Shoshana]

I'm sorry, the chocolate was so luscious, my brain stopped working until I feed it chocolate!

[emzeegee & the hungry three]

ROLFMAO, add me to the dork category ...and I would have been right with you on the 'hiding' it under your coat part. I would've watched the bag like it was going to explode or something! :)

Dorks unite!

[Nohe 5]

You are too funny! I needed a good laugh tonight. Thank you for your confession.

[Waya]

Oh my goodness, this was precious!! It was hilariously innocent. It's something my friend and I would have done, goofs that we are.

[Dana]

I found your blog through the Queen of Spain and Mocha and I've been having a great time reading it! I'm participating in my first Love Thursday! I'm way excited! I might mess it up, but oh well it's fun!

[chris]

"If you're ever in Amsterdam, go ahead and inhale."

Advice taken.

[Girl con Queso]

Oh dear. You made me laugh outloud with this one. In a completely good way.

[t-hype]

Thanks for the laugh! That is the funniest thing I've heard in a long while!

[Pieces]

So funny. I can just imagine myself doing exactly the same thing.

And I'm sorry chocolate cakes with sprinkles are ruined for you. Cause they're nummy.

[karrie]

The first few times I lit up*, nothing happened. Friends explained that was common, so maybe you should have ordered two pieces?

*Have not touched the stuff in years. Parenting makes me sleepy, hungry and paranoid enough.

[LD]

Uhhh are you sure it wasn't just...cake?

Great story though.

[Chookooloonks]

LD --

You know, the thought *did* cross my mind ... :o)

K.