He sits in his tent ripped to the gills. He’s smoked two joints so far. He pretends to be studying astrology. He looks at the chart he has drawn up and begins reading passages out of the Astrologer’s Bible. “Hmmm, Leo ascending…” he takes another toke, places a licorice drop in his mouth, takes a sip of coffee, and strokes his beard. “Hmmm…” He spaces out for a moment, eyes rolling back into his head.
He leans back into his wooden captain’s chair complete with wheels and arm rests. He has made himself a foam pad for the seat – a pink and purple paisley print- all sewn by his own hand. He breathes in. He breathes out. He begins again, “Hmmm…” He rubs his dick as he takes another hit and then begins a fit of wracking coughing that practically launches him into outer space.
“Whew!” He catches his breath. ‘Low Mochra. That is different than High Mochra,” he explains. “In Low Mochra you are so stoned that you just want to lay back and space out. In High Mochra you are just really, really high.”
She tries to understand, but she can make no sense of it. She thinks he is making it up. She has never heard of either High Mochra or Low Mochra. This reading is taking a really long time and frankly, she doesn’t want to be here in this tent filled with pot, pot smoke, drying pot, bags of pot, and an astrologer who is potted.
She excuses herself, “I have to go now. Maybe we can finish this another time?” Sure he understands, besides she has already paid him so what does he care.
She’ll never come back… and he’ll be left there alone in his pot tent stroking his dick by himself and wondering what happened.
On the way home driving into town, she sees Mick barreling down the highway on his motorcycle. She feels a tug in her groin as an involuntary Kegel pulls up on her yoni. “Wonder where he’s going?” she ponders. She follows him into town just far enough back so he isn’t aware of her.
He is just getting off his bike in front of her house as she pulls up behind him. “Hey,” she says giving him a hug.
“Hey,” he replies in kind. “Got any plans for tonight?”
“Well, I did, but they just got cancelled.”
“You realize that you reek, don’t you?”
She thinks of the marijuana filled tent she just came from and tells him the story.
(First published 10/18/11)
