Red Flags and Marijuana Plants


Do you have those moments where you know what someone’s about but when they show you their true colors style, you’re still pretty much taken aback? Well, that’s what happened between someone who should have known better and myself. Looking back at it actually, I, Tess, can confidently say that the fault was just as much as mine.  The blame I personally feel because it was also one of those times where I employed good old benefit-of-the-doubt and saying that was the wrong move simply isn’t enough.  Then again, it’s the reality of the situation that made me drop my guard because the thing you have to understand is that this man has watched me grow up both in church and in the community, I’m friends with his daughter, Jaime and his wife, Luann who holds a high ranking job and is well-liked by many. So when I agreed to have one of our usual smoke sessions before heading over to Erik’s, I didn’t expect to feel what was most certainly not the remote against me. 


The day started off like any other day we’d link up for our session: we’d inquire if the other was free then Cristof would come get me whether it was him that messaged or myself and take me back to his house.  At the house we’d chat with the gardeners, cooks, and cleaning staff, then over some joints we’d talk about Jaime if she was in the news for a public case, about the political climate and his favorite topic, his marijuana plants. That day, however, the topic of the discussion happened to be the rift he was in the middle of with Lu. In his eyes, she, Lu, was being too nice to her boss, Kathy, who seemed to live for taking all of Lu’s ideas and passing it off as her own to her own boss. Cristof’s initial issue is with Kathy, according to him he just wasn’t a fan. In his heart, he felt like the job should in fact be Luann’s, who he suspects was not chosen because of the color of her skin. Also, it’s also a firm belief of his that the fact that Kathy isn’t from the country,  in fact, she’s Italian with a heavy accent, made management disregard Lu, whom he and a hushed many others consider the obvious choice. In his words, “It’s because she has the foreign thing going for her.”  The picture he paints is that “Kathy very frequently calls Lu to get her out of messes that, given Kathy’s job description, should well be within her means of solving.”

Now, about their current rift, according to Cristoff’s recollection, while cuddling his wife the night before, her phone rang and pierced the night. Throwing an eye on the clock, it was after two. Then, before he knew it, she scrambled out of bed and the entire room gets 100 times brighter than before. He knew exactly who it was.  “Which email am I using?” Then the phone call ends. Hands over his eyes because of the light, speaking between his fingers he snarls at her, “You’re always jumping to her every need”. Ignoring him, she scrambles to send an email that had to be sent right then and there as it was an emergency Lu herself couldn’t handle because she at that moment was at a function. Cristoff, according to him, lost his shit.  


Popping a grape in my mouth, I wandered to the veranda to give him some privacy as he took a call that interrupted his venting. Heading upstairs to the roof, I entered his garden which consisted of only marijuana plants. Elbows on the railing, leaning on it, I stared at the view before me and lit the joint in my hand. All too soon, footsteps were coming up the stairs and he entered, making a beeline to where I was. Standing up straight and turning around to face him, I envelop him in a gulf of smoke while passing it to him as he tells me about the call and his plans for the plants behind us then – it happened. 


With my back against the rail, he stood within arm’s length as he smoked the joint. The conversation switched from him to me where the topic was my work. It happened so fast. Passisng the joint to me, he took my outstretched hand and pulled me toward him where I landed flush against his body. In utter shock at the sudden pull, all too soon, his hands found themselves on the small of my back where he pulled me against him even more. Disliking the way this felt, I began pushing against him while he at the same time, continued to pull me toward him. His hands found my butt and with pressure, gave a great push pulling me into him more. With this move, he was effectively pressing me closer to him and that’s when I felt him firm and strong against me.


Immediately alarms and red flags went off in my head as if on the count of three. Seeing his head inching toward my face I panicked and blurted out “Wait, which one’s the Granddaddy Purple?” Quickly wriggling myself free under the guise of curiosity, with furrowed brows, I walked deliberately towards his plants. Feigning interest in what he was saying, what happened less than three minutes ago was on a loop, all the while reliving the feeling of his length pressed against me. All the while, he continued talking about the rest of his Indica strains in good spirits, giving absolutely no indication of what happened mere minutes ago. Hearing the pride of his plants evident in his voice while I relived the mental video capture of his face inching toward mine, I knew I needed to leave so I hatched a plan. 


While babbling away about the strains he’s gearing up to plant and after counting to 100 in my mind, I checked my phone and with pretend outrage at the time, I hurriedly announce, “Crap, I gotta go! I’m gonna be late!” Downstairs, while gathering my things, there was a heavy silence between us, and on the ride to the train, it was like a blanket enveloping us. As I thankfully caught the train on time, an hour later making myself comfy on his bed, I looked at Erik who was sniffing the goodie bag of weed compliments Cristof, and said, “You wouldn’t believe what happened with dude and I”.  


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