'Dazed And Confused' by Led Zeppelin

It's the only time I ever was in a VW van, freshman year in high school, the spring of 1982. He had graduated two years before. He played the drums in a local rock band. And he was so cool. I couldn't even fathom talking to him, never mind actually sitting in his van. But Conchetta was a sophomore and ran with the cool kids. For some reason, she had taken a liking to me. So there I sat at 6:45 in the morning, getting ready to smoke a bowl. I'd tried pot for the first time over the summer. This would probably be my fourth time smoking. Of course, I didn't want to look naïve.

I sat in the back seat. Mr. Cool and Conchetta were up front. They made out for a while. I kept tugging at my navy blue uniform skirt pretending not to look. When they were done, Mr. Cool pulled out a plastic baggy filled with big, fat green buds. He had a small silver bowl. I watched as he broke down the buds, carefully separating the weeds from the seeds. And then there was a problem. He didn't have a screen for his bowl. Shit! We couldn't smoke it without a screen. I spoke up from the backseat.
“Your lunch bag.” I said.
“What?” Mr. Cool looked at me with near disgust.
“I see you have a lunch bag there.” I motioned to the space between the two front seats where a brown paper bag was jammed next to a stack of cassettes.
“What about it?” he asked.
“Well, is your sandwich wrapped in tinfoil?” The smile that broke out on his face told me he was now comprehending.
“Yeah, it is. You're pretty smart.”

I sat there glowing that this nearly 20 year old guy not only spoke to me but actually thought I was smart. Mr. Cool pulled out his aluminum foil wrapped sandwich. It was ham, I think. He tore off a piece of the foil and fashioned a screen.

“Do either of you have a safety pin?” He wanted to know.
“No.” Conchetta and I answered simultaneously.
“We need to make holes in the foil.” We all looked around the van for something small enough to do the job. He had a Led Zeppelin lapel pin stuck in his sun visor.
“Oh, look.” I pointed, thrilled that it was me again who solved the dilemma“Now you're thinking!” was my praise. Mr. Cool finished packing the bowl and lit up.

The smoke curled and emitted a pungent smell. Before it was even passed to me, I was flying high.