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My Dabs Experience
NEVER SMOKE WITH A BLOWTORCH, KIDS
By Tokey Dokey
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G*cKf/tg cot 6k 6he.
I never forget my famous last
XX words: “What’s a dab?”
Curiosity has often led me into some
intense situations which later have me
questioning how I survived. This was one of
those times. After inhaling my first “dab,” I
coughed for what felt like 10 minutes.
In my humble, recreational-drug-using
opinion, a dab can be best described as
the marijuana version of crack cocaine.
However, I found out later that my first dab
experience was not the norm. Apparently,
my “friend” gave me a bit too much, on
purpose (a bad joke), and that explained my
reaction.
Technically, a dab is a more concentrated
form of tetrahydrocannabinol, or THC, the
chemical component in cannabis that gets
you high. In this form, it takes the shape of
a waxy, crystallized substance, kind of like
hash. A dab isn’t necessarily more potent
but, depending on the size of the dose, it
can carry a heavier weight than most light
smokers are used to. (Full disclosure: I come
from a background of robust experimen
tation followed by years of sobriety, but
now I’m back on the horse searching for
an appropriate adult balance—yes, it’s a
thing.)
The process for consuming dabs works
like a vaporizer. As I waited to consume my
first dab, my friend heated up a ceramic
bowl with a hand-held blowtorch—drug
user pro tip: If you need a blowtorch to
get high, you’ve gone too far (or not far
enough). The bowl was attached to a glass
water chamber and, after it was hot enough,
the waxy dab was placed on the bowl with a
metal rod.
My job was to simultaneously inhale as
the dab was dropped onto the bowl. As I
did, I could see the dab instantly vaporize.
The vapor filtered through the glass water
chamber sending a scorching hot vapor
down my throat and into my
lungs.
To be honest, it was not
a pleasant experience. It
was like consuming a
joint’s worth of THC in
10 seconds. I haven’t
been that high since I
was in high school.
My early experi
menting days,
which were filled
with uncontrollable giggling,
drooling and the desire to
eat a whole box of cereal in
one sitting, all suddenly came
back to me. For those of us
who’ve been to the moun-
taintop, there is such a
thing as being too high.
I didn’t exactly freak
out, but at one point
during my stupor I pulled
out my smartphone to ask it what the hell I
had just ingested, how long it was going to
last and what to expect from the residual
effects. (“Siri, how high is too high?”)
Fortunately, the Internet is amaz
ing. And I treated my smartphone like it
was my Hitchhikers’ Guide to the Galaxy.
“Don’t panic,” Siri said, as she pulled up a
recent series in The Cannahist (a pot-based
publication from The Denver Post) called
“Concentrates 101,” which exquisitely
explains the science behind dabs and other
THC-based concentrates. As the author
notes, “Concentrates can be intimidat
ing” for people who’ve never tried dabs or
overdo it on their first time.
“Most users who have a poor experience
with dabs find themselves in that situa
tion because they consumed too much,
too quickly. While it’s fairly easy to do five
dabs in a row in less than five minutes (or
’J S1
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TMt X tePr
Falling Dowh!
to ‘bite off more than you can chew’
with one large dab, so to speak), it’s a little
harder to smoke five joints in that same
amount of time.”
I like weed. I like it a lot. And I still con
sider my first experience with dabs as an
unpleasant one, mostly because I was igno
rant of the amount I was consuming.
Within an hour of smoking the dab,
another friend wanted go hang out in
downtown Athens. I wasn’t sure I was
coherent enough, but I decided to roll the
dice and go listen to some live music.
Compared to an average joint, bowl or
blunt, dabs made the auditory hallucina
tions that often accompany a dose of THC
more intense. Inside the venue, next to
the stage, I listened to a band rock out
and could practically feel the sound waves
bouncing around the room (and inside my
head).
Then the dean of my college walked in.
Could I carry on a conversation without
being discovered? I don’t know. I like to
think I did. I vaguely remember smiling and
nodding a lot, but I could say that of a lot
of my memories. Smiling and nodding are
what it’s all about.
It was a solid three hours before I started
to come down from the effects of the dab. I
ended that night saying, “I probably won’t
smoke another dab again. I don’t need that
much instant gratification.” But I was wrong.
Several months later, a (much better)
friend offered me another dab. I explained
my reservation to the friend. It made my
second time much different. One (much
smaller) hit lasted about two hours and
didn’t completely debilitate me. I could
actually communicate with words instead of
slobber. Good times. ©
Talk About It
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it will not go away. You can make a
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APRIL 20, 2016 -FLAGP0LE.COM 11