Got a call from a downtown businessman about four teenagers in John's car. It was parked behind the man's shop and he wanted us to know they were smoking marijuana in it. John's car, you see, has his business logo and phone number on it.
"I don't understand why they would do this in full view of myself and my employees, but I'm letting you know instead of just calling the police."
I sent a text message to Ross: "whaddaryadoin? call me"
He did, and I asked him where he had been in the last hour or so. His tracks went through the parking lot identified earlier.
"Were you smoking dope in your dad's car? Someone called and said he saw you all doing that. He is certain he saw you pass a small pipe around. I want you to come home immediately."
"We didn't have marijuana, Mom. I'm telling you the truth."
"Yeah, sure you are. Kids never lie to their parents. You are going to lose your car privilege and I'm gonna get a buncha grief from some parents because of your stupidity and indiscretion."
"No, Mom. Remember I told you Ethan is hooked bad on cigarettes and he's trying to quit? His dad gave him this electronic nictotine device and that's what we were passing around. I'll come right home and show it to you."
First thing I did was the sniff test inside John's car, but I didn't smell anything. I looked into the four angelic faces, eyes clear and not dialated.
The device is about 5" long and silver in color. It is a battery-driven nebulizer and makes a mist out of flavored nicotine drops. The mist could be mistaken for smoke.
I tried it myself. It hits the throat quite a bit like smoke does, a surprisingly fair immitation. I could feel the nicotine buzz my brain a bit.
"What flavor is in it?" I asked.
"Kiwi lime."
"Weird."
"You can get forty different flavors. We like the blackberry."
"Got chocolate?"
"No, but we can get it."
I was so relieved, I hugged all four of them and sent them out for McDonalds, all expenses paid.
Now they are over at Tyler's house showing the device to Tyler's mom. She has COPD and is also hooked hard on cigarettes and one other flammable substance. An aging hippie (true California-style) I bet she thinks she's seen everything.
Not yet.
