mulenews.com: Smoking Meth Just Got A Lot Easier!

1/25/2007  

Nothin’ says lovin’ like some good ol’ paraphanalia.  That’s why we were eccestatic to find that we could purchase a beautifuly adorned, exquisitely wrapped, meth pipe from a local Shell Gas Station. 

 I’d like to take this opprortunity to introduce Saint Joseph to the “Mystic Vase”, a lovely little glass meth pipe equipped with flower inside and a dainty red bow. 

 Here’s how it went down:  My sister and I enter the store in question and proceed to stare at the candy isle trying to decide what we wanted.  We were rather loud about our selection, and finally made our way to the counter.  The clerk was all smiles. 

 “Is that it for you, Marla?”  He asked me. 

 How did this freaking man know my name?  I stood there with a catatonic stare and then, kept standing there.

 “I heard her say your name,” he said, looking at Katie. 

 Ha, ha.  We laughed, and good times were had by all. 

 I was feeling a little discomfort, however.  We didn’t just drive clear across town to yuk it up with the cashieer.  We went there because a friend told me that they were selling “glass sticks” to anybody that wanted one.  He was appalled by this revelation, and wanted to see somebody squirm.

 I knew that I was about to turn this guy’s smile upside down.  I reluctantly picked up one of the “Mystic Vases” and began to inspect it with feigned curiosity.

 “Ooooo,” I said.

The cashieer got even happier.  He liked that I liked the pretty little meth pipe.

 “That is a special gift,” he proudly stated.

 “It looks like a pipe,” I told him.

 His response was, “Yes, yes, it is a special gift you give to someone you love very much.”

 I couldn’t do it.  This man had been grinning from the moment we entered his store.  He liked me, and for some reason I just couldn’t make myself ruin his evening. 

 That’s when my sister took charge.  She saw my moment of weakness and pounced on that happy little man like he was not human in the least. 

 “Actually,” she said very snobbishly, “She is with The Mule News, and we know what those are for.”

 He stopped smiling.  The air was thick with akwardness.  She rightfully continued berating the guy.

 “How do you get away with selling those?”  And, “How can you sleep at night knowing that you sold one of those to someone?”  And, “What if I didn’t know what it was for and bought one for my Grandma?”

 He was stupified for a few seconds and weakly replied, “It is not illegal, it is no different than selling cigarette papers.”

 She kept talking, but I could tell that he was not going to answer any questions.  He cut her off, and told us he was closing the store. 

 It was 9:30 pm.  What a strange time to batten down the hatches. 

 The next day, we came back to take a picture.  We just wanted a candid shot of the merchandise.  But the same clerk told us that we could do whatever we wanted with the “Mystic Vase” after we bought it. 

Weonly had three cents.

 The following afternoon, Katie went with a friend to pay for one of these little jewls.  My baby sister waltzed up to the counter and shelled out seven bucks for one of the most dangerous pieces of paraphanalia known to, well, me.  What if she’d been caught with it?  How did he know that she wasn’t buying it to go  enjoy a toke?  Man, that sale is beyond my rhelm of reasoning. I have seen, hanging in gas stations across America, a large poster depicting all of the items sold, which could be used for the making of methamphetamines. (As red flags to cashieers.) 

Well, screw that!  Why bother getting busted there when all you have to do is go to Shell and get the whole shebang?

http://www.mulenews.com/main.asp?SectionID=2&SubSectionID=2&ArticleID=331&TM=5286.68

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