Boo-boo Bubbler!

There was a time long ago where I used to work as a salesman for an audio firm. MCS. Out of Tustin. Specialized in high speed tape duplicators, cassette tapes. Had a whole warehouse full of machines that were worked by Pilapina gals, wives of  local Marine service men, who would spend the day talking in Tagalog and recording, over and over again, the Sunday sermons of local pastors for the homebound set. My job was to find ways to undercut the mail order catalog prices and other salesmen out there who had a better price break than me. High speed duplicators were all the rage with the evangelicals. All my boss and I wanted was for my price breaks to be all the rage, too.

One day I found myself on foot. The VW truck I was given to do my road work in died on me. Rather, the diesel engine died on me. It was a noisy truck, smoky as hell and for a day I was happy to be hoofing around Van Nuys without it. I had my briefcase full of brochures of my crappy product and a stack of business cards with my name and my company's logo on them. My skinny black tie went fine with my US Navy white dress shirt. It was spring and the weather was right for walking. As I made my rounds on the Boulevard I spied what was known then as a “head shop”. I hadn’t been in one in years so I figured, what the hey, time to check out the merchandise, see what stoners in 1983 were using to smoke their weed with. I walked in and was amazed at the wealth of water pipes I saw and said so. Well, what I said was “Wow! Great selection of bongs!” It didn’t take but a second and I was ushered out without so much as explanation or fare thee well.

It was the next day, talking about the incident with some pals of mine that I found out that you were forbidden, at that time, anyway, to utter that word. "Bong". Goodness, just saying it got a guy in trouble. Didn’t even have to have mota on your person to be given the bums rush.

Well, times have changed. I walked into Bear Necessities in Greeley this morning. Had some shopping I needed to take care of. Christmas is just around the corner and I needed to pick up a water pipe…okay, let’s say it…a BONG for my buddy over in Cali. I felt like it was about time I took care of my pal, put a fresh bubbler in his hands. The reason why is that I was responsible for him breaking one last year. Seems that the mota I forwarded him on a visit was just a tad too strong for his weak disposition.

I was lucky to know a number of great stoners back when I was living in Mendo. One of the gals, a pal of my sweetheart, grew some mighty fine Mendo Purps in field outside of Covelo. She gave me a pint jar full of it for Christmas one year and being the pal that I am I decided to share my bounty with my oldest friend. He was recovering from work related injuries and, at the time, was a regular user of a local Pineapple strain out of LA. When I passed along that purple goodness to him I was not as savvy as I am now about strains and such. I thought, wow, good weed, he should think so, too. My pal used his weed as a medicine prior to his morning stretches and exercise program. He went off into his work shed, loaded up a bowl and took a hit thinking, yep, just another bowl of Northern California weed. He took a big toke, held it and then proceeded to pass out. On the way down his bubbler slipped from his hand and hit the ground. Shattered. He ended up on the ground, too, but on the way he hit his head on old military ammo box. Gave him a shiner that had the whole neighborhood talking. Surprised (and happy) that he didn’t kill himself but he is a tough old son of a bitch.

It took him a while to report that story to me. He went out and bought himself another bong. After a while his family stopped laughing about his black eye. When I found out about his accident I felt bad for a bit but since he just kept on going with his medical treatment I didn’t feel all that sorry for him for long. I did feel bad about his bong getting broken, though. As you can see it took me a while to get around to replacing it. These days you can barely swing a dead cat around here without hitting a glass store. This particular one has glass bongs and such all the way from floor to ceiling. There a tons of other products, too. Papers, a wide assortment of pipes, a number of different dab rigs, vaporizers and all sorts of other paraphernalia. Tobacco, too. A regular old time head shop. I can even say “bong” in there and not get kicked out. Imagine that!

Next week I will send off a package to my buddy. What was great about buying that pipe today is that I was able to get two at a very reasonable price. One bong for 35 bucks, the other for 4 dollars and 20 cents. I went in with a 15 percent off coupon and really had a merry old time. When it comes to gift giving I really love to give things that I like. I didn’t have to struggle over that purchase. We both got the same one.

Glass being glass I hope this one lasts longer than his last one. Good old NorCal dope. Great stuff, that Mendo Purps!

Salud!