Cray-Cray Over Cocaine

Yes. I said it. Cocaine.

Like, who actually blogs about hard core Cocaine?

1. Cocaine

   Drug
2. Cocaine is a tropane alkaloid that is obtained from the leaves of the coca plant. The name comes from "coca" and the alkaloid suffix "-ine", forming "cocaine".

Yes. I inserted the definition just in case any one thought I had the wrong word. Nope. I didn't.

Okay, before I get too far into this story, I realize that I need to say that I haven't blogged for awhile, and I used to to a Memory Monday Meme that I thought was pretty cool. I've loved having a collection of weird/funny/slightly offensive stories that have ACTUALLY happened to me. If anything to let my kids know that I am SO much more cray-cray than they realize.

Just in case there was any doubt.

Cray-Cray over Cocaine.

Okay. That was lame.

Anyway. there was me, and three or four of my friends living out the stupidity of our youth.

We(meaning me) were young, naive, and careless. Of course I being the Molly Mormon that I was am, I knew of hard core drugs but had never entertained the idea of participating in the sport. Not even a little of Mary Jane. And I seriously had offers. I could have done it anytime.

I was always too afraid of embarrassing my family, meeting the wrong dudes, becoming a total addict and losing all my teeth.

Not that Mary Jane does ALL of that, but you know...it leads to other things. At least I believe it would for me.

Seriously, just breaking  my addiction to caffeine called for major life changes and I still waddle in it. How would I be with drugs or alcohol?!?

Heh. I waddle.

So, getting to the point. We were totally getting real at a Club in a nearby City.

Ha! Getting real at a Club. I sound so Posh!

I'm sitting at a table, we're talking about guys, listening to music and trying to pretend that I am not totally out of my element.

My foot lands on a hard square object underneath the table. I think it's the part of a table leg, you know how those things stick out. My foot continues to tap on it to the beat of the music. I am surprised and start to question in my mind, "Why is it moving as I tap on it?"

I look down to see a small red object. It looks just like one of those hard cases the same size of a wallet. I'm thinking that's exactly what it is. Someone was sitting at this exact spot doing the same thing we are now, but they must have dropped their wallet on the floor.

Yes. I thought it was a wallet. As I write this I'm thinking to myself now, "Oh you poor girl. You Poor Naive Molly Mormon."

Of course it's not at a wallet! Seriously! I'm at a Thug Club! I wouldn't go so far to say that PDiddy and JLo were there over a shooting scandal, but it could of been possible!

But Poor Naive Molly Mormon did what a Poor Naive Molly Mormon should never do. I picked it up. Then I turned it over a few times in my hands still thinking that it's a wallet. I decide to keep it under the table out of the view of my friends, the waitress, possible security cameras, bouncers...the Mob.

That. Was. A. Good. Decision.

There was a small moment where a very small-SMALL I TELL YOU!-small gut instinct was like...

"Don't-open-that-case-what-are-you-thinking-your-going-to-get-capped!"

But did I listen?

OF COURSE I DIDN'T LISTEN!

I pop that baby open like a fat girl and cake!

Small voice was now a little more urgent. "Put-it-back! Put-it back-right-now!"

But did I listen?

OF COURSE I DIDN'T LISTEN!

I wished I had. Yes. I was stupid. I was naive. But when I saw what was inside the case my blood ran cold. I knew this was some real $h!t!

Molly Mormon does not say $h!t!

Fear. I felt serious fear. For realz! A little bit of pee came out!

This wasn't just a small pack of Baby Bhang! The contents included three or four different types of drugs, cocaine packets, a needle, and of course four joints of the above referenced Baby Bhang.

Can we stop for a second a pretend that I didn't just google, "List of Marijuana Slang Terms" and that I was cool enough to come up with the term Baby Bhang by myself?

Anyway, at that point I do what any naive white chick from Utah would do.

"Hey," nervous chuckle. "Look guys. Drugs!" I say somewhat nonchalantly. Of course I kept it on the down low and under the table where we all had to crowd around over it.

After the shock of what I had found had actually set in, then came reality. What-the-heck-do-I-do-now? I could throw it back under my foot and pretend it never happened, carry it out and throw it in the garbage, or turn it in hoping that the said security cameras, bounces, and the Mob would be cool with not throwing my white trash in the slammer. Or popping a cap in my you know what.

Seriously, can you see a girl like me in the Big House? Or worse, THE TRUNK OF A CAR!?!
Now I know what you all are thinking...You're wondering if we did the drugs.

OF COURSE WE DIDN'T DO THE DRUGS! What are you thinking? I couldn't do them! I left my spoon and lighter at home.

We all banded together and turned it in to security. So to the shifty Security dude that walked all twitchy the next day...You're Welcome! :-)