Anybody out there smoke or use to smoke weed? If so, how about this. Ever go grocery shopping when you’re stoned? Shopping for munchies while wasted is one of my favorite things to do. Smoke a big old fat hooter of kickass bud, get blown out of my fuckin’ mind and head for Kroger to cop some grub! People start to stare soon as I walk through the door. What? You’ve never seen a stoned out hippy with long hair and tattoos pushing two grocery carts down an aisle? My eyes bloodshot and red and my breath reeking of freshly smoked herb, the first thing I head for are the cookies. Hmmm … let’s see. I think I’ll have a couple of packs of Chips Ahoy, three packages of Keebler Fudge Stripes and six bags of Pecan Sandies. There, that oughta do it. Oh shit! Wait a minute! Can’t forget the double stuff Oreos! Maybe I’ll open a pack and sample a couple now. Nah, better not. It would probably cause a scene.

Potato chips aisle 6! Gotta have my Cool Ranch Doritos, a couple of bags of crunchy Cheetoes and some of those Ruffles with ridges. When I eat a bag of chips? I eat them all! The whole bag! Might as well have a little dip to go with my chips. What do you think? I don’t mess with the onion dip. That shit made me sick as a dog one time. But I will try some of this bean dip and a can or two of that enchilada dip. “Excuse me miss. Would you mind handing me about six bottles of that Pace picante sauce?” I say to the cute little buck toothed redhead stocking the shelf with Lays. Smiling at me, she hands me the Pace. Nothing but the best for a wiped out stoner with the mega-munchies. Let’s see … what else. Oh yeah! Some of that squeeze cheese in the can. American and cheddar! Who gives a damn it costs four bucks a can! Better pick up a few of these Frito Lay variety packs for the kids. After all, wouldn’t want them getting into my stash.

Ah … the cakes, donuts and pastry aisle! My fav! This is where I really freak out. Hmmm … miniature donuts! Gems I think they’re called. Gotta have a couple of dozen packs of those. Chocolate and white powdered, but mostly the chocolate ones. I’ve got all the white powder I need at home. If they don’t have enough Hostess brand, I’ll wipe out the Dolly Madison stock too. Speaking of Hostess. Can you say Twinkies? Sure you can! Everyone likes a good old Hostess Twinkie now and then. It’s so much fun to spread that creamy white filling all over my girlfriend’s tits and slowly lick it all off. Oops! Did I say that? Sorry! Forgot where I was at. Time to move on. Okay, let me get a couple of gallons of milk. Get the shit in the back. You know it’s probably the freshest. No curdled milk for moi’. Might as well get a half gallon of chocolate too. And hey! What’s that over there? Ice cream? Fuckin’ A! Hagen Daz here I come!

“A man can not live on sweets alone!” I say to myself under my breath as I check my sock to make sure my bag of weed’s still there. Which reminds me, let me slip down the tobacco and cigarette aisle for a box of rolling papers. Zig Zags in the orange pack. I’ll just stick them in my pocket. No need paying for everything! Heh! Heh! Umph … um … clearing my throat and looking around. On to produce then over to the meat market. Tomatoes for my nachos this Saturday night, a few oranges, apples and pears. And check out those fresh cucumbers! Reminds me of the scene in the movie Animal House where the character played by Tim Matheson looks at Dean Wormer’s wife both holding cues and he says, “Mine’s bigger!” And the sexy old woman smiles. A big bunch of bananas, some seedless grapes in a bag and two big old fat Black Diamond Watermelons! Can’t forget those.

Do I have any charcoal briquettes? Better buy a big old bag. And a plastic bottle of generic starting fluid. I love squirting that shit on the fire watching it flame up to the sky! Steaks! Filet mignon, New York strips and a half a dozen rib eyes. And butterfly pork chops! Don’t forget the BBQ sauce. Maybe I’ll invite some of the old lady’s good lookin’ friends over to cook out, swim in the pool so I can stare at their tits. Aw fuck! Did I say some stupid shit again? My bad! I’d never do that. Shame shame Tripper! Bad bad boy, slapping myself on the hand. Control your thoughts asshole. Keep moving. Get some food for the cats. Little Friskies, Kal-Kan and whatever else I can find. My cats love me. Think I’ll pick up a few cans of tuna too. Oh crap! Don’t forget the cat litter this time. Get the Fresh Step it’s the best kind.

Some A-l steak sauce and a few can goods and it’s time to hit the cash register. Aw hell! Gotta run back for a couple cases of Diet Coke. Diet you say? A man’s gotta try a little bit, right? There! Now I’m set! Choosing the shortest check out line I pull a snooty old cashier with horn rimmed glasses and bobby-pins in her hair. “What’s shakin’ babe?” I say leaning across the counter and rolling my eyes all flirty like to try and get her goat. Staring into her baby blues and wondering if she’s wearing granny panties underneath her one~size-fits all pant suit, I pull a roll of bills from the front pocket of my jeans. “That’ll be $199.69 sir,” says the Minnie Pearl look alike. Fanning ten crisp twenty dollar bills, some with cocaine residue on them, I pay the total. “Keep the change dollface,” I say to the better-than-thou old bag. Sticking her nose up in the air she reluctantly says, “Thanks for shopping at Kroger. Have a nice day.” “You too toots,” I say. “And hey! Is that Elizabeth Taylor White Diamonds you’re wearing? Because you sure smell good!”

Loading the trunk of my Caddy with sacks I damn near have to stand on the lid to get it shut. Oh, what’s that? Someone selling Hillbilly BBQ Sandwiches on the sidewalk in front of the store? Better have a couple of sacks full of those. Gotta try and quell the munchies before I fire up another joint. Yeah, grocery shopping when stoned is such great fun! Back at the house I carry all my treasures inside. I feed the cats and sit down in front of the tube. With my deaf cat Whitey on my lap petting him as he purrs, I contemplate the events of the day and light up my last doobie for the evening. Ah … the life of a weed dealer. It’s a tough job. But somebody’s gotta do it. Right? With a big bowl of ice cream melting in front of me and a half drank soda sitting at my side, I fall asleep on the couch. See you in my dreams and maybe at the grocery store. I am the all stoned out Tripper! Better stoned out days!