I smoked something in Strasbourg. I am afraid to tell even my friends for fear of disapproval, but I'll tell you: I did. Honest to God, I smoked something.
Maryvonne told me that we were going to a bar, and her mother that we were going to a cafe. We ate dinner beforehand, and then Maryvonne's sister drove us along with Sylvie and Kat. Her sister dropped us off at a street corner, and we walked the rest of the way - a few blocks further and down an alley. As we were walking, Maryvonne said to me in a confidential tone of voice "I really love this bar, because, you will see, it is the only place in the city where you can smoke uh..." I guess my eyes widened because she said "Oh no, not cannibus. I do not know how to say in English. It is not a drug. You will see."
We went into the bar. It immediately gave the impression of being a cool, insider hangout. The walls were painted a deep red, and there were metal lanterns hanging from the celing that cast shapes of light onto the people and tables. Cushins covered half of the floor, and a group of people sat there at low tables. Some leaned against the walls. Eastern music played. "You like?" said Maryvonne. Kat grinned and nodded, and I said "Yes, very much." It was beautiful. She handed each of us a canvas bag and told us to put our shoes in them. We sat down on the cushins at one of the tables. "This is so cool," said Kat. I looked over to the table next to us. A large group of college-looking people sat there talking. On the table was something that looked like some sort of very large oil lamp. A long tube came out of it, and the kids were passing it around. Thick white smoke came out of their mouths. "Maryvonne," I said. "What is that?"
"Ah, that is the -" she gave the French word for it. She smiled. "I will get one. You will see." The four of us ordered drinks, and soon the waitress brought them to the table, along with a contraption like the one the college kids had. I examined it. It still looked like nothing I had ever seen before. My heart started to beat a little faster.
"Are you excited?" said Maryvonne.
"A little," I said. "I have never smoked anything before."
"Sylvie neither. This is her first time."
"Me too," said Kat quietly. (I usually speak French with Maryvonne and Sylvie, but as I've mentioned, Kat doesn't speak it very well. She only manages to jump in occasionally.)
"I will show you how," said Maryvonne. "You just put in in your mouth and inhale deeply, like this." She put it in her mouth and took a deep breath. The liquid in the bottom of the thing bubbled. Then she breathed out and the thick white smoke flowed out of her mouth and nose. "It must be very strong though. You cannot breath in just a little. Sylvie, try." She handed to tube to Sylvie. Sylvie looked at it for a second and then drew a breath from it. Immediately she pulled the tube away and coughed. "Ah," said Maryvonne. "Not strong enough." Sylvie tried again. This time she was able to exhale slowly. She smiled a little. Next Kat tried. Then the tube came to me. At first I coughed. I could feel beads of something build up in my throat. But the second time I tried, it worked. I could feel my lungs filling up with something that was definately not air. It was an extremely interesting feeling. When I breathed out, I watched the thick white smoke curl away from my mouth slowly. The smoke tasted like cherries. We passed the tube around a little more. Eventually, I started to feel... not lightheaded, but a little wierd. I told Maryvonne about this feeling, and asked whether it was supposed to happen.
She laughed. "Oui. C'est bon. C'est normal."
We talked at the bar. Sylvie asked if I had a boyfriend, and Maryvonne turned to her and said in French "She broke up with him three weeks ago, and they went out for seven months." Maryvonne has a secret boyfriend (one of the guys I mentioned in my email who followed us around.) and Sylvie has an ex boyfriend in the exchange group. "Kat," said Maryvonne, "Are you in love?" "In love?" "Are you in love with Jaques?" "Oh no. No. I think he's mad at me, actually." She kind of laughed nervously. She has a laugh that suggests that she is slightly hyperactive. "What exactly happened before?" I said. "I dunno. I was just flirting with him, and then we started making out... I didn't mean for it to happen. And yes, Pedro did push us into a closet." I laughed.
Sylvie didn't smoke much. Kat smoked a lot, and obviously was thrilled by the experience and would never do it at home. She did it with a sort of style, and I liked watching the smoke come out when she exhaled. Eventually, I smoked a lot too. I wanted to maintain that lightheaded feeling. I wanted more... but after I inhaled once, the lightheadedness turned to dizzyness. I held my head with my hand, and said "I did it too much." The feeling didn't go away. I lay down on the cushions. Then I went outside with Maryvonne.
"Are you okay?" she asked.
"I'm a little better."
She nodded. "You will be okay. It is an effect of the [French word.] I think in five or ten minutes it will be gone. And when we go back inside, you will sit against the wall."
I sickened slightly. "I don't think I can go back in there Maryvonne."
"Yes you can - "
"No, I think I can't."
I sat on the steps of the bar with my head in my hands. Kat sat with me for a while. Then Maryvonne came back out and said "Aidan - Aidan, we must pay now." I handed her money rather than go back in. The whole bar smelled like that cherry smoke. It made me naucious. As the four of us walked down the street so that Sylvie's father could pick us up, I threw up onto the sidewalk. Sylvie gasped and Maryvonne turned away. I stayed leaned over. All I could say was, in French, "Oh no! My shoes!" Sylvie rushed over and took my purse from me. I walked a few feet over to where there was a drain in the sidewalk and threw up twice more. I went back into the bar and washed off my shoes and my face. Then we walked to where Sylvie's father was picking us up.
"Aidan, I am so sorry - " said Maryvonne over and over again. I tried to tell her that it was ok, that I'd LIKED the place before I got sick. I finally told her that I get sick easily, and that I was sorry I'd ruined the fun, and I think she believed that it was okay. "I smoked too much for the first time, that's all. It was stupid."
"It was stupid of me to bring you."
"I LIKED it Maryvonne. Don't think it turned out badly just because I threw up."
Kat was silent for a while. Then she said, "Well, at least now you can say you've puked in a foriegn country."
"I know. I've done it all." There was a pause. "It still kind of concerns me that I don't know what that was."
"Yeah, me too, a little." She laughed her nervous-energy laugh.
When we got back, I could still taste the cherry in my mouth. I put a piece of gum in my mouth, and it was still there when I woke up in the morning.
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