"Have you ever done drugs?"

"No. Well, I smoked pot three times when I was younger, but other
than that, no."

"I'm surprised that you've never done drugs."

I look at my therapist like she is on drugs. "Why is that?"

"Well, it's not that you look like someone who does drugs. It's just,
you've had such pain and sadness all your life. I'm surprised you never
tried drugs to ease or take away that pain."

I think about it for a moment and then look at her. "You're
right. I'm surprised I never tried them too."

I've been thinking about this conversation a lot. It is weird that
I never turned to drugs. I always thought at some point I'd turn to alcohol, after
all, it is the family tradition, but the family tradition is also having a
really delicate stomach. My dad would vomit blood because the alcohol
would eat away the lining in his stomach. He had to take
prescription medication for his stomach. I get acid reflux just looking
at a peanut butter sandwich. I can only imagine what drinking a bottle of
whiskey everyday would do to me.

Honestly, sometimes I feel like a big square boy scout. The first time I
got drunk was my freshman year in college. I remember calling all my
friends to tell them I was drunk, because I knew they wouldn't believe it.
Somehow being woken up at 1 AM by a drunken phone call, they were convinced
pretty easily.

I knew a lot of people in college who did drugs, but for some reason they always
shielded me from it. It was as if they were protecting me from it.
"Oh Brian, you don't want to try this," they'd say as they
carefully rolled their joint.

Eventually I did try it at a bachelorette party where I was one of the
hosts. I sat in a circle with about eight women. I made jokes that it
was very much like the scene in 9 to 5. "Hey," I said the the
girl with the big ones. "You can be Dolly and I'll be Lily
Tomlin." "Just take you turn and pass it along dumb ass,"
she snarled. I must have not done it right. I didn't feel
different or high. I also didn't have a craving for barbeque afterwards.

The third and final time I ever tried pot was a real After School Special kind
of moment that is far too embarrassing to ever detail on the internet to the
masses (the twelve of you reading this being the masses). Let's just say
it involved a bowl of oatmeal cookie dough ice cream, fruit soaked in Everclear,
Linda Blair-esque vomiting and other bodily fluids. After that experience,
I never wanted to try it again.

I think I've never been attracted to drugs because of my father. It's a
very strange conversation you have with your dad when he tells you if you ever
want to try "weed or anything stronger", just let him know and he'll
get it for you. I know in his own bizarre way, that was his idea of
being protective and what he thought a good parent should do, but for me it was
very unsettling.