First time I had a toke, I was 20 years old, at a party in Cambridge, MA. Rodney walked up to me and asked me if I wanted a smoke, and I said, no thank you, I have my own, and I pulled out my pack of cigs. He smiled and said, no, pot, would you like a toke? I thought, why not.
Time passed and I couldn't figure out what all the fuss was about until suddenly, I began perusing Rodney's home library and literally thought I was in the Boston Public Library, he had so many books, and that's when I understood what being stoned is about: illumination, exaggeration, imagination, and soul floating.
Over many years since, pot has come in and out of my life, even grew it for 6-7 years in Mendocino County, but have never been a daily toker . . . until recently.
Finding that I am enjoying a toke or two just about every evening these days. Sometimes I think it might be some kind of divine intervention!