Maybe my tastes in people are different. Perhaps I’m not as tolerant as I should be but, I don’t find a chronic Pothead, attractive in any way and cannot see what it is that my daughter sees in her boyfriend who smokes up from the moment he opens his eyes in the morning until he shuts his eyes at night. He literally lights his life up in smoke like Cheech and Chong.
It might be just me but, I cannot fathom how it is that she can look at this jerk and see anything in him that she can take forward with her into her future except a major dependent headache. He’s not a teenager either. He’s going towards 35 years of age.
Since they first met about 7 years ago, he’s put on about 80 or so pounds or more. His idea of exercise is walking from the couch to the fridge or having to go to the bathroom and even that might be too much a lot of the time. His clothes are all far too small for him. His now huge belly sticks out from under his faded psychedelic/rock t-shirts and he cannot do up the top button on his pants. “The Munchies” have taken their toll. What’s worse is that the guy will not wear new clothes that do fit him or are appropriate to the situation. I can’t describe the nose-dive my stomach does, seeing him enter a fancy restaurant where everyone else is dressed up and he walks in wearing a worn-out, faded, ill-fitting, rock or psychedelic t-shirt and a pair of dirty or wrinkled, worn-out blue jeans, undone half way down the zipper, hair un-combed, stinking to high heavens, un-shaven, brown teeth, looking like he’d just rolled out of bed and stumbled into the car.
He wreaks of weed and body odour. If you’re unfortunate enough to get seated beside him at a meal and caught in the down-draft in a restaurant or anywhere else for that matter, your eyes would tear up from gagging. I’d be willing to bet that taking a shower or changing his clothes is a low priority, likely coming in behind rolling and lighting his next joint and eating the crumbs he’s dropped for the 17th time in 20 minutes, off of his shirt. In other words, he lacks the ability to care about himself or anyone else’s feelings for that matter.
His greatest ambition in Life is to pass Level 3 in some video game or to download 200 more Psychedelic Rock songs onto his computer while wondering why it keeps crashing or gets locked up with viruses. He lives his home life, sitting beside a garbage can, situated in front of the couch, likely so that he doesn’t have to move his ample reared and belly to dump his rolled joint clippings and munchie wrappers.
His snoring is so bad that my daughter regularly has to sleep on the living room couch, which has springs coming through the bottom of the cushions and has been compacted by his fat ass, planted to watch downloaded documentaries on the virtues of marijuana or conspiracy theories. I think if I hear her say that she’s “so tired” and “didn’t get much sleep” one more time, I’m going to choke her as she complains about not only the couch she has to sleep on but, also the fact that he’s up several times a night to rummage through cupboards looking to eat chocolate and other goodies. She has complained on many occasions that she has to spend her getting ready for work time the next morning, picking up empty wrappers as well as half drank glasses of iced tea and milk he’s left behind. All of this is beside a mattress, placed on the floor due to what we can only guess has been taken off of its frame because either he keeps falling out of bed or because he’s put on a lot of weight due to the marijuana munchies. It doesn’t matter how you look at it. It’s the weed.
All of that is not to top the apartment he chose for them to live in which is being over-paid-for, falling apart from the ground up, so tiny you could spit from one end to the other (and I wouldn’t put it past him to have done it), furniture that’s second hand or from a damaged goods department of a furniture store and lays in the middle of a wealthier area because he needed to be in the middle of the most expensive part of town due to his champagne tastes on a beer budget. It’s not cheap to be a Pothead with the cost of it as well as not working fully.
Since she moved out or our home and in with him, she’s gone through all of her substantial savings, works full time at a job she hates but, keeps because he’s gone from a somewhat liveable salary in working for family to one that barely makes ends meet. It’s only by the grace of his family that he even has a job at all as he smokes up all day long and rarely works a full week or a full day if he makes it to work at all. We won’t get into the credit card debt that he’s always been in and has wracked up past his earlobes. I’m sure his weed, his vape pens, weed and hash wax/oils and other crap he seems to need with him at all times to keep his high going cuts a wide swath in his pay every month. I’m wondering what the 30 bottles of cologne he had stashed everywhere as a cover-up for the weed smell cost him. I guess he can’t afford those anymore and, while I wish that he’d go back to using it because it at least, somewhat masked his nauseating stench, I’m not having asthma-like attacks from the abundance of it anymore. My gag reflex has returned with a vengeance though.
Conversations over dinner tables with him can often turn nasty. HIs abrasive, obnoxious, opinionated and oftentimes, rude comments leaves the family wondering if our daughter has also become brain dead or whether she has simply acclimated herself so well to his spiels and outbursts that she’s lost track of where he ends and she begins. There’s no room for shades of grey in his mind, it seems. There’s only what he considers as blacks and whites which gives zero room for discussion or debate. He’s right and the rest of the world is wrong. If he’s not agreed with, he’ll simply smoke another reefer and try to convince my daughter (or whomever else will listen to him) that her brain cells have eroded until she acquiesces or gives up in defeat. I wonder what they talk about during dinner but, I’m assuming his mouth is rammed so full that there’s no chance for any sort of banter. Either that or, they eat in front of the single working computer left that he hasn’t crashed, on a coffee table where they watch what he’s downloaded or a link to a streaming site.
While he can extol the virtues of pot usage like he’s memorized a script written by all recreational pot users and tell us why it should be legalized (must be to save postage from his purchases of it over the net as he doesn’t even have enough ambition, energy or drive to go out and purchase it), he’s smacked up a couple of cars his father has paid for through the company and cites road conditions for the bang-ups which include cars having been written off. We have no idea how he gets away with those excuses when his family all know he’s a stoner and does it all day, including while driving.
What’s hardest to fathom is why she stays with him when they live in a hand-to-mouth fashion, have no friends (little wonder), can’t afford to do more than hit a few smaller venue rock concerts now and again, no one able to tolerate him, including his own family who has ousted both of them because of his behaviour and, even I have lost patience in hoping she’ll some day wake up and realize that what she’s got right now with him, is the best that he’s going to be able to offer her in every way of both his being and their lives together. With zero drive or determination to better his lot in life, whatever small urge he has had to make a change in any way, simply goes up in smoke with the next joint.
It’s equally hard to get a grasp on how it is that our daughter, once a beaming, beautiful, well dressed, well kept, intelligent, driven, ambitious woman with a university degree, can stand there and introduce this grade 12 drop-out, dressed like he lives in a gutter, unkempt, un-shaven, tub of hot air, lard-bucket and say, “this is my boyfriend” without wanting to cringe and hide. Even I choke on the words when forced to introduce him to others as our daughter’s choice in mates and do it as little as possible. I try to simply use his name, instead.
The most difficult of all is to have watched our daughter not only become someone else over the time she’s been with him….someone we don’t even recognize anymore but, more key is the idea that she’s not seeing that not only has she, herself gone downhill and let herself slide but, that her entire future looks pretty dismal as well as issue-riddled. It’s no going to get any better. If the good foot forward has already been presented as they say, this foot is looking like it’s going to take her off of her feet. Heaven forbid that there should be a child ever brought into this world by the 2 of them as even taking care of a cat has become too much for him, mentally, emotionally, patience and financially. Stepping up to the plate to become a parent is just not in his deck of cards. His next smoke-up is his biggest goal.
Needless to say, our family only tolerates him because it means that she’ll walk on us if we don’t. She’s done it already for over a year at one point. This guy knows her weak spots and he preys on them, works with them and manipulates her into his clutches. He’s good at it and I can see the wheels turning in his brain as he does it. With no friends, his own family unable to stand him or even tolerate him much, she is his only ally and he’s not about to let her go as long as he can keep reeling her in again.
The latest attempt was when she was close to walking out on him and the relationship. She gave him an ultimatum to clean up his act, get another job, get their debt paid down and into another decent apartment that had 2 bedrooms where she could actually sleep in a bed versus a broken down couch. Unwilling to make any changes to his life, he agreed that they needed to get another apartment when he knew that they couldn’t afford first and last month’s rent, let alone another bed for another bedroom. She came to us for money for it all. He knew that if they moved, they’d have to sign another year’s lease which would likely keep her as she couldn’t afford to buy out the remainder of that lease as he was working less and less with his salary going down and his father having fired him on several occasions, only to have him talk himself back into an even lower position out of guilt from his father and brother. We weren’t falling for that one. She might have but, we weren’t going to be that stupid.
I’d like to say that him smoking up and being lazy is a teenaged, early 20-something thing but, it’s not. He’s nearing 35 years of age and she’s nearly 33. It’s doubtful that this is simply a sew-your-oats type of stance at this age. After over 6 years of co-habitating under these conditions, it should have long since run its course but doesn’t seem to be slowing down, going sour or wearing thin.
There’s a lot of information out there on the alleged benefits of marijuana but there’s a lot of downsides to it as well. While this guy complains bitterly about people who drink alcohol and calls them “mentally ill”, he refuses to see that his pot consumption is little more than an alternate high for him. It’s not medicinal. It’s used to escape his own demons and done chronically. It’s akin to a drinker having to have a drink every few hours. It’s an escape that is taking not only him down in life but, my daughter with him.
Can I place full blame on him and his weed consumption, exempting my daughter from this? No, I can’t. She’s as much to blame for letting herself get this far caught up in a lifestyle that’s going nowhere good and, makes her future look like a dismal abyss. This not how we wanted to see her end up but, this is exactly the way that it’s going.
Yes, he’s a glorious piece of work. A real beauty to behold and yet…we are stuck with him for the time-being but, my daughter is the biggest loser of all by wasting her life at this precious time where most of her friends have moved forward like adults and she’s still living the Frat Life with a Loser, Pothead. Sad but, true and, there’s nothing that I can do about it. It’s a form of an abusive relationship through manipulation and drugs.
If your son or daughter comes home with a stoner…show them the door and let the knob hit them in the ass on the way out. No get out of jail free card for them or you’ll be walking my tight-rope too.
From my little corner of life…this issue riddled jerk and sorry excuse of a human being is giving marijuana a bad name. Then, again…isn’t every stoner-Pothead?
PS: If you’re thinking on commenting on this piece and trying to convince me of the alleged uses of marijuana or how it allegedly cures cancer, seizures and other ailments…please don’t. I’ve heard it all and this entry is NOT meant to be about its medicinal uses.
Thanks for understanding and saving me the hassle of having to wade through comments that I won’t be publishing if they’re extolling the virtues of marijuana and why or, telling (as most recreational pot users do) me to “do the research”.