Two Joints in Boston: Part I

One author's account of traveling, shared Cannabis experiences and making human connections in Boston, Massachusetts.

I arrived in Boston and checked into the hotel too early to go to bed, but too late for anything aside from night life. The hotel in which I was staying (many thanks to my sponsors) was a nice one, and priced well above my usual travel accommodations - which in general involve some kind soul's couch. I didn't have a car and my travel budget nixed taxis, or anything but that time-honored mode of transportation: "one foot in front of the other, repeat as needed."

The air was crisp with just enough of a chill to make walking pleasant. Near to my hotel were a dozen pubs and bars teeming with young college kids doing the things that young college kids do in pubs and bars. As you may or may not know - although I have a fondness for "apple pie" (flavored moonshine) and my own homemade sweet mead, honey wine - I do not drink often, and almost never to excess. I smoke daily but usually only have a handful of alcoholic drinks per year. And while I would not consider myself 'old' and I enjoy conversation with all ages and walks of life, the idea of hanging out in a bar with a bunch of drunk people half my age did not, in fact, appeal to me for the evening's entertainment.

So I walked. I walked past the bars and pubs, peeked between iron bars into a historic cemetery across the street and enjoyed the people-watching in the fresh air. There was a sign prohibiting taking rubbings of the tombstones. If I have any say in the matter, I would like to have my marker textured in some interesting way so that, if someone took a rubbing, it would come out nicely.

I stopped off at a night market and bought a snack and soda to take back to my room. Since smoking was not allowed inside the hotel, I looked for a discreet location to have what I thought was going to be my last joint of the evening. I found a nice little out-of-the-way area at the side of the hotel in an alleyway shared by a couple of bars. The thing about discreet locations, though, is that they tend to attract folks looking for discreet locations. This particular spot was already occupied by a homeless gal. Once I saw her, I started to move on but she waved me over, warning: "Just don't sit down or they'll hassle us for congregating."

Keep in mind that my traveling clothes include a fedora that should have been replaced about five years ago, a hoodie that is almost more patches than original material and a variety of tie-dyed and Hawaiian-print shirts. My clothing style is a bit more "wear-it-until-it-is-dead" and fashion sideways than fashion forward. Add my long beard to the mix and the misconception was quite understandable.

We exchanged pleasantries with the sort of small talk found in checkout lines. She reached into her pack and pulled out the Bible; from between its pages, she extracted some old photos of her former life - horses she had once owned and loved, a normal enough-looking house, and so on. One in particular struck me: a photo of her as a child carefully petting a horse's nose. Such a little girl, trying so hard to be gentle to an animal many times her size and strength.

She frequently touched the cross around her neck as she spoke. "We are people, too," she said quietly, and without much conviction. She again grasped the pendant tightly and told me about earlier in the day when one of the college students - who was obviously wearing a watch - would not even tell her what time it was but just darted past her, shaking his head "no."

"I told him I didn't want any money, I just wanted to know what time it was. I could see he was wearing a watch and I asked nicely." She held the cross even more firmly when she told me how much things like that hurt. "I'm not hurting anyone; I'm not some kind of animal."

I was moved by how strong her faith was, even in the face of such hardship, and I hoped that it helped her to withstand her struggles. Just across the way I could see the college kids in the bars carousing, drinking and starting off the slap-and-tickle portion of the evening. I had not been speaking to her for very long, but it was long enough to learn that she was the same age as them, of at least average intelligence and there wasn't anything wrong with her appearance that a hot shower and new clothes couldn't put straight. She really was not much different than they were - she just didn't have access to the same resources or support systems, such as family.

I gave her the snack I had bought and she split it with two other homeless guys who happened by. The four of us talked for a while and then the three of them faded off together, into the night.

First Joint

Our encounter had been an interesting glimpse into the American Untouchable caste for me; it left me with a lot to think about. In other words, it was definitely time to light up. As I now had the alleyway to myself, I was just about to pull one out and light it; then, a figure rounded the corner. This was a homeless guy a bit older than the college kids, but a bit younger than myself. I asked if he knew of a more discreet location, since this discreet location was not proving to be as, well, discreet as I had originally hoped (as far as I can tell I am legal to smoke in Boston, but I would rather not find out the wrong way that I am incorrect).

This guy noticed my concern, assuring me, "We are fine here, just don't stand in a group." After we talked a bit, I pulled out two of Rhode Island's finest from my walking-around case - rolled with some top shelf buds, courtesy of my area buddies Max and Fingers. I finished mine while we talked but he smoked his a little at a time: lighting it, taking a couple of puffs, putting it out and repeating the whole process a short while later.

He showed me how to open the standing ashtrays in the area to look for cigarette butts that were long enough to offer a drag or two. I was not quite sure what to say when he exclaimed, "Damn homeless people take the top off and don't put it back on right. They get rained on and it ruins it for everyone!"

Stay tuned for Part II...