Smokin' weed, smokin' weed, doin' coke, drinkin' beers

The plant manager at my work is a rather cautious and conservative fellow. It's why he hired my company to do security at his plant despite the lack of any real security issues. Last night an employee found and turned in a small pipe still containing some marijuana residue. Rather a nice little pipe, too. The plant manager gave it to me in a sealed envelope and when I went to open it said, "Don't touch what's inside!"

I had to laugh because it reminded me of an incident when I was still a cop in New Orleans. I was driving by some corner and I see some guy drop a small foil wrapped package as I pass. Well I jumped out and jacked the guy up. I reached down and picked up the foil. It was shaped exactly like a joint and when the sharp chemical smell hit me I realized immediately what it was - a joint laced with PCP. Clickems we used to call it then. Super grass! I was so pissed. I had picked it up in my bare hand. That shit can seep into you, dood!

I'm like, "Why didn't you tell me what this shit was before I picked it up, man?"

He says, "That ain't mines!"

The whole project was looking at ME like, "Nigga, please! Do you know what we touch with our hands every fuggin' day?"

So there I am in the plant manager's office with this little head shop pipe. I wanted to pull it out and put my tongue all over it and make obscene noises just to see the plant manager's reaction. Sometimes I miss smoking doobs.
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