Hey there, stoner fam! Buckle up for a wild ride through one of the most hilariously disastrous concert experiences you'll ever hear.
Picture this: It's summer 2018, I'm at a music festival with my best friend Jake, and we've got tickets to see this indie band we've been obsessed with for months. Now, I'm not typically the type to go full festival mode, but something about this day just felt different.
We'd been pregaming in the parking lot, passing around a joint that was basically the size of a small submarine. I'm talking next-level potent stuff that could knock out an elephant. Jake's laughing, I'm giggling, and we're feeling absolutely invincible.
We stumble into the festival grounds, and immediately everything is sensory overload. Thousands of people, music blasting from multiple stages, the smell of various herbs - if you know what I mean - floating through the air. Jake decides we need to get as close to the stage as possible, which in retrospect was a terrible idea.
About thirty minutes into the concert, I'm so blazed that the music sounds like it's coming from underwater. The lead singer looks like he's moving in slow motion, and I'm convinced I can see sound waves bouncing around. Meanwhile, Jake is dancing like he's having some kind of seizure-meets-interpretive-dance situation.
Then it happens. The moment that would become legendary in our friendship history. I get the most intense case of the munchies known to human history. We're talking biblical-level hunger. I spot a food truck selling these massive loaded nachos, and in my altered state, I become CONVINCED that acquiring these nachos is my life's singular mission.
I push through the crowd, bumping into people, mumbling apologies, totally focused on nacho acquisition. When I finally get to the truck, I realize I've lost Jake, I'm holding $50 in crumpled bills, and I cannot for the life of me remember how to form coherent sentences to order food.
The guy at the truck is looking at me like I'm some kind of alien, and I'm just standing there, swaying slightly, holding out my money and making what I thought were persuasive nacho-ordering gestures.
Somehow, I end up with not one, but THREE massive nacho plates. No idea how that happened.
The best part? Jake finds me fifteen minutes later, sitting on the ground, surrounded by nacho carnage, looking like a very happy, very messy human.
Question of the week: What's your most ridiculous concert experience? Hit me up on social media and share!
Next week, we're diving into a gaming session that went completely off the rails. Trust me, you won't want to miss it.
Stay lifted, stay awesome.
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