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[kiwibirdman-blog]

Cannabus

“Hey Bro, is there still a bus” the old man asked as he stumbled into the bus shelter.

“Ya, you’ve still got a bit of time” the young man said, stalling, while he looked at the screen to understand the situation for himself.

“The bus never comes on time. I got here last time and it said 00:03 and there should have been a bus before then.” The man was dishevelled, slurring.  

“You never know. And what about down at Vic park? The drivers always stop for like fifteen minutes.” The bus always stopped either for the driver to align to the schedule or for a driver change. Often it could be up to fifteen minutes waiting at one stop. Passengers complained. It was a thing.

“Oh, it’s always something with that stop. They’re just trying to get their schedules back lined up. It’s never on.” He laid down a rolling paper. “ah well, gives me time to roll up my synthetic cannabis. You got a cigarette?”

“No, sorry, I don’t smoke.” Said the young man.

“That’s alright. I just need a butt.” He went out into the road and picked up one of the many cigarette butts littered in the street. He broke what was left of ash and tobacco onto the rolling paper and used the filter to roll a ‘joint’. “I gotta get my hit”

“Where is the real stuff man?”

“Nah, this is it. The government made this legal, made a supply, got us all hooked, and now we can’t get it.” He ranted.

“And there’s no real weed out there anymore!?” the young man exclaimed.

“There’s some, but the synthetic stuff has the best hit. The government made it legal, and now, they ban it. Make a criminal out of those who smoke it” He lit up. Surprisingly there was no smell.

“That’s why it should all just be legal. Make it a health issue.”

“But how far do you go?” he exclaimed while he smoked “in the future will rape be legal??”

“Well, no. I’m speaking only of illicit drugs. Rape and other crimes would still be legal.” The young man was taken a back. Almost annoyed at the connection the old man was making.

“But where do you draw the line? Who’s to say?” the old man asked.

“My dealer got busted the other day. I can’t help but think of him and his family. He’s not a criminal. He’s selling pot to fucking middle-class professionals!”

“You learn young or you don’t learn.” The man said.

“Learn what? Come on. It’s my choice.”

“It’s criminal. You gotta learn.”

“But you’re not a criminal are you? What is the harm in what you’re doing other than to yourself?”

“Where’s the line though? What if rape were to be legal?” He paused. “Want a drag?”

“No, thank you.” It’s surprising the young man was so quick to say no. His dealer gone, his stash depleting. Take every hit you can get. But he had no desire. Maybe ten years ago it would be different “Case in point for legalising drugs. I said no out of choice.” He thought. He leaned against the glass bush shelter. Looking at the time display: 2 minutes.

“Hmmm. Hahahaha” from the man. “Hahahaaha” higher pitched.

The bus arrived. The young man got his card ready and looked back at the older man.

“He dude. The bus is here.” Nothing. “Did you want to get on this bus?” Nothing. The young man boarded. The doors closed. Several seconds went by as the bus tried to pull out. Doors open.

“Hi” said the old man as he sat down reaching into his pockets to find his change. Stumbling to the driver to pay.  Returning to his seat.

           The young man didn’t bother trying to start the conversation again. The old man, in a haze, probably wouldn’t have remembered.