Marijuana and Titty Bars

I was in a strip bar in Portland, OR the first time I heard the term 420. It was April 2003. I was touring with The Second City National Touring Company. A couple of cast members suggested that we all go out and enjoy Portland's high class entertainment. Why not? I had never been to a real strip club before. The closest I ever came to a titty bar was on a movie set. I felt naughty, thrilled, and disgusted all at the same time.

I'm not going to lie. I hated it. And it wasn't because the dancers were women either. I'm not a big fan of male strippers either. I guess being a performer I know that they are just pretending. That they don't really care about my sexual excitement as much as they care about the $$ in my pocket. They don't want me. They just want my dollar (or preferably my $100). On top of all that, I kept thinking this place can't be that clean. What with all the body parts on display and...eww.

Not wanting to be a bad sport I stayed at the boob joint with my cast. We drank and laughed. After all that drinking I had to go the bathroom. I met a local who broke my cardinal bathroom sin, never talk to a stranger at the urinal next to you. The guy went on and on about the titties on the girl that was dancing on the pole. His favorite part was when she licked her own tits. I didn't answer. I stayed eyes forward, focused, dick in hand. "Whoo Hoo!," the native shouted, "They're having a 420 party here." I finally gave him eye contact. He saw the lost look on my face. "Don't chu know what a 420 party is?," He asked. I confessed that I didn't. And right there in the men's room this guy gave me a lesson in cannabis history. It was cute. He was cute (and straight). He offered to get me high. I accepted his offer. His weed was weak but tasty. Still, I appreciated his hospitality.

Here we are on 420 again. I actually have a medicinal marijuana card now. And can smoke legally. 420 doesn't quite have the festival status it once held in my life. The quality of marijuana I get is also better. 1000x better than the stuff the guy from the strip joint gave me. Still, every time April 20th rolls around, I think of that cute bathroom stranger from the titty bar. If I saw him today, I would so smoke him up.

Smoke responsibly peeps.