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as I fumble under
    the seat, searching for his stash.
    This slow enough for you?
    Damn, I feel like an old woman.
    “Ha. Sound like one too.”
    Finally, pay dirt. I reach into
    the baggie, extract a big bud.
    Hurry up with that, would ya?
    Hey, I saw you on TV tonight.
    I keep crumbling dope.
    “Really? You watch the news?”
    No frigging way.
    He snorts a half laugh.
    Nah. I was channel surfing.
    Ah, but of course.
    “So how’d I look? Like
    a movie star or what?”
    He reaches for my left boob.
    More like a rock star, baby.
    God, he’s a player. A lousy
    player. “Give me your lighter.”
    Delectable smoke fills the cab.
    Hey, man. You never told
    me your mom was so hot.
    My body stiffens and I shove
    his hand away. “Shut the fuck
    up.” I take a giant hit of pot.
    Jeez. Pushed the wrong button,
    huh? Sorry. But she is.
    “Mom is not hot! She’s fucking
    frigid!” Why is this bugging
    me so effing much?
    Okay, okay. Really sorry.
    Now give me the damn doob.

Needless to Say
    I don’t feel much like messing
    around with Mick’s “nice big joint,”
    not even after killing off the nice
    big joint wrapped in a rolling paper.
    Maybe after a beer or ten.
    And hey, lucky me, looks
    like the beer’s flowing up
    here on Figueroa Mountain.
    Twenty or so vehicles are parked
    helter-skelter, like misaligned
    zipper teeth. Some I recognize.
    Some I’ve never seen before.
    It’s an older crowd. Several
    people graduated with Mick,
    and a few last year. Not too
    many my age. Fine by me.
    I see enough of those people
    every day at school. Who wants
    to socialize with them? What
    I want is to leave them in my dust.
    Suddenly a familiar whine
    threatens my jocular mood.
    Hey, Mick! I hoped you’d be here,
    even if you had to bring her along.
    You guessed it. My delightful
    friend, Madison. She rubs up
    against Mick like a hungry cat.
    Is she trying to piss me off?
    And here I just got unpissed.
    Two choices. Jump into the ring.
    Or turn away, move on to
    that really cute guy over there.
    I turn to assess Mick’s reaction
    to the fur-free feline at his arm.
    He looks vaguely intrigued,
    and totally unconcerned about me.
    So fine. No use getting into
    a scratchfest. I wander over
    to the keg, top off a twenty-ounce
    cup, and go say hi to Prince Charming.

Turns Out
    He’s not particularly charming,
    but at the moment, charm is not
    a prerequisite. I’m not looking
    for a life partner, just a good time.
    “What’s up?”
    His eyes, the color of creamed coffee,
    hold mild interest. Not much. You
    a friend of Mick’s? He tips his head
    in the direction of said Mick.
    “Not really.”
    Hmm. Got the idea you were.
    Didn’t you come together? He smiles
    at the loaded question. I mean,
    didn’t you arrive together?
    “Doesn’t make us friends.
    But yeah, we did actually.”
    My turn to smile. “And we’ve
    come together a few times too.”
    He looks me up and down like
    he’s shopping. I see. Any plans
    to come together tonight?
    “Nope.” I part my lips bravely.
    “Not with him , anyway.”
    He nods his head, stands.
    How’s that beer? Need a refill?
    I shrug. “Sure. Don’t suppose
    you happen to have anything
    stronger on you, though?”
    It’s a distinct possibility. Let’s
    get those refills and take a walk.
    It’s stupid even to consider taking
    a walk with this guy. Like I care.
    I glance toward Mick, who is now
    in the truck with Madison, filling
    the cab with smoke. I’m so taking
    a walk. With a complete stranger.

We Wander into the Woods
    Sit on a big stump, slurping foamy beer.
    He’s cute, really cute. So what if he’s not
    much for words? He reaches into his jeans
    pocket, digging for treasure. Maybe I’ll dig
    in there later myself. Meanwhile, I’ll content
    myself with the giant fatty he lights. The pot
    is the same as (or very similar to) Mick’s.
    “So…” I cough out a big hit. “You and Mick
    share a connection, huh?”
    Something like that. He laughs. Let’s
    just say we move