I’m not sure there’s a particularly graceful way to inhale one’s first joint. It’s on fire, after all, and there’s ash, and smoke. And of course it’s illegal, so the whole production is vaguely clandestine, even a little nerve-wracking—it’s like you’re being inducted into some kind of secret society, and the tape loop that lists all the dangers of marijuana keeps running through your mind while you’re concentrating very hard on trying not to look stupid or, worse, uncool.
