I went out to Seattle for a shitlord conference, and learned they have pot stores there. Now, I’ve never liked cannabis, really, but the idea of THC edibles appealed to me. On the flight out I’d read a piece in the New Yorker about a Jewish lady who’s some kind of gourmet cook and entrepreneur in that field. There is mention of Maureen Dowd’s unfortunate experience with a marijuana chocolate bar in Denver. She ate a bit, didn’t feel anything, so gobbled the whole thing. And spent the next two days in intense discomfort, flat on her back.
Thus apprised, and warned, I went over to the little shop in Belltown a few blocks from my hotel, and bought some 10mg THC milk chocolate for about five bucks. Nibbled a little, felt tired and woozy, lay down, got up, felt hungry. The munchies? Maybe. Went down to dinner in the hotel’s restaurant. Two vodka martinis drowned out any of the drug’s effects.
I’d planned to bring most of the candy back to my husband. But when I got to the airport I had qualms. I gobbled the remainder of the chocolate and tossed the wrapper. After entering the security queue, I realized I’d thrown away my boarding pass as well. Back to the trash bin.
I’d nibbled at a little of the candy earlier in the day and could feel its effects. My mind wandered more than usual. My gate seemed miles off, but I had two hours, so stopped for a martini at the Alaska Lounge. When I got to the boarding gate listed on my pass, I settled in, and reached for my laptop. It wasn’t there, in my rolling backpack. I’d left it in the plastic x-ray bin at security.
Now the panic started. I realized I was pretty well blitzed from the candy, and had been all evening. I double-checked the departure time on the electronic board, since my flight wasn’t yet listed at the gate. The board said my flight was at N3; my boarding pass said C18. I checked it again. The flight was due to leave in a half-hour. I wouldn’t have time to retrieve my laptop. I hurried over to the N gates.
The N gates were in a different terminal. I had to walk a half-mile, then board a jitney. In the distant sub-terminal I saw my flight was scheduled at its new gate, but was slightly delayed. I had almost enough time to run back to security and find my laptop, but didn’t trust myself in my condition.
Finally arriving home next morning, I hunted through my bag to make doubly sure the laptop really wasn’t there. I lay in bed most of the next two days, exhausted from the trip and intoxications. It occurred to me the airport might have a lost-and-found department, and I found it online and registered my loss. After a few days I got a nice chirrupy voice phoning me. I identified the item easily enough (a Mickey Mouse bandaid over the camera, among other things). For $75 UPS will ship it to me in a few days.