A Story My Dad Told Me

31 3 3
                                    


TW // Mentions of drxg @bus3, 0v3rd0s3, and d3ath









So, when my dad was in college (long before I was born), in one of his classes, his professor assigned the class to write a story that evokes an emotion. At the time, my dad had this stoner friend who was a little too into weed, and he used that as inspiration for his story (although he never told the friend that).

Basically, in the story, the narrator had this friend who started doing weed, and then branched out into more and more intense and dangerous drugs. The narrator's relationship with this person starts becoming strained as the friend becomes a different person. The story ends with the narrator at his friend's funeral, watching him being lowered into the ground and contemplating what's happened, wishing he had done more to try and save his life.

My dad told this story to his class, and when he looked up from his paper, at least 90% of the class was crying because they thought everything in that story really happened. He had to address everyone like, "Woah, woah, it's a fictional story, it didn't actually happen!"

But that wasn't even the end of it, because the professor got mad. He went into this whole spiel about how marijuana wasn't a gateway drug like it was portrayed to be in the story, and how my dad shouldn't have written it that way. The guy just got unreasonably worked up over it, like he was personally offended.

After class that day, my dad and his other friend that was in his class had a talk about it, and they both thought, "Yeahhhhhhh, that's kind of sus, bro."

Anyways, that's essentially the story of how my dad made a whole class cry and then realized his teacher was a stoner.

Some Kind of Journal I GuessWhere stories live. Discover now