The Move

It was mid-December when I met Joan. Joan was a transgendered girl, ie a chick with a dick. I was at a bar with some friends and Joan approached the Katie, the girl who had taken me out that night with her friend. Joan asked if I was bi or straight or what and a few minutes later she came over and talked to me. I honestly didn’t know Joan was transgendered. In fact Katie didn’t realize Joan was transgendered until a few weeks afterwards. Joan and I ended up going over to a table by ourselves and she ended up asking me what I did and asked if I smoked weed. “Do you,” I asked before answering. “Yeah, I love it”

“Me too actually.”

“You holding?”

“No, I wish.”

“Yeah if I had some we could go outside and smoke a bowl.”

Before my friends were ready to leave Joan asked me if she could have a kiss. “Sure, why not?” We exchanged screenames and I went home and checked out her myspace. That was when I discovered that Joan was transgendered. The next day we started chatting and I found out she was HIV positive and had Hep C. She told me she had been addicted to opiates for years. At the time she was 28 and had started with darvocet at the age of 14. She came down with a friend of hers, he turned out to be very flamboyantly gay. I have nothing against homosexuals, but I do think some gays try to live up to a stereotype instead of just being themselves. In fact I believe most homosexuals are bisexual in some way. Kinsey was probably infinitely more accurate with his sexuality scale than the narrow pigeonhole classification system of exclusively straight, bi, or gay.

So Joan and her friend took me back to their places and we hung out and smoked some weed. It turned out Joan had just inherited some cannabis plants that had been abandoned by their original owner. I guess he had reason to think someone he had pissed off was going to call the law on him. Out of nowhere Joan asked me if I would move in. “I’m really lonely by myself out here.” I thought for a little while and at the time it seemed like farming cannabis and opium would be an adventure and me and Joan seemed to get along fine. So I decided to move out into the middle of nowhere for a little while with Joan.

The plants were huge and there were at least 30 of them, most of them being several feet tall. I started adding better lighting, adding nutrients, and generally reading everything I possibly could on growing cannabis. I became the garden’s caretaker, but what were Joan’s intentions? At first I couldn’t tell if she wanted anything more than friendship and someone to hang out with and help him grow pot.