Crimes and misdemeanours, Part 7. Green Fingers?

Herbal tea anyone?

Despite being somewhat mischievous, I’ve lead a reasonably sheltered life – at least from a illegal activities point of view, I haven’t ever got a speeding ticket-although Wandsworth council seems to intent on sticking parking tickets on my car for no reason at all. So a few summers ago I met She Who Shall Not Be Named in Brighton, I was in my “no matter how completely barking mad”’ phase and was willing to risk it (yet again) so I pitched up at Brighton one evening in the summer.

I went into her kitchen and the first thing I noticed was I could hardly move for cannabis plants! Jesus Christ, everywhere I looked  cannabis plants were growing, in the kitchen, the conservatory, the garden, the greenhouse… I thought shit I’d better get out of here before the cops raid the place and I get throw in jail…

I asked her what on earth was she doing with so many plants (doh!) and she said she sells them, it’s how she makes her living! Shit! I thought! I’ve entered some sort of suburban drug factory!  She told me everything about them, how to force grow them, process them, and then she showed me her loft (that’s not an euphemism BTW) and it’s jam packed with weed drying out!

I asked what she does with so much weed and she explained how she picks them and puts them into little packets, then goes around the local gyms and sells it to her classes, she goes to all these over 60’s keep fit classes and sells the regulars dope..! Two thoughts occurred to me when she told me this; (a) I didn’t know Brighton was such a den of iniquity.. and (b) what friggin age was she really!

Now here’s the funny thing, her father lived with her amongst all the weed, you see, the house was divided up into upper and lower flats and he came wandering down for a chat and just lit up some weed in front of me… and he was about 90, I think! Then she starts lighting up, I’ve never tried any kind of drugs – I know I know, you are surprised but in Norn Iron it’s all controlled by the paramilitaries and all hard drugs and we weren’t the sort to try anything like that..so I sit there on her settee and try smoking this weed and cough cough cough cough so she shows me how to smoke it properly and about two joints later I’m starting to get the hang of it and feeling light headed..

Of course having never done anything like that it suddenly hits me and I think she’s expecting some ‘action’ but of course I fall into deep sleep, I vaguely remember her getting stroppy about me falling asleep and how she was really looking forward to some rumpy-pumpy but that was it – I was comatose and woke up fully dressed on the settee at 5am – thought WTF is going on and wasn’t really sure where I was as it was dark. So I crawled my way out past all the plants and found my way to Brighton train station and waited for the first train home. Just as a matter of interest, did you know that the first train to London on a Sunday morning from Brighton doesn’t actually leave Brighton station until around 8am…  Yeah, nor did I but I do now..

I suppose if I was being evil I could tip off the police but live and let live is my motto.. The thing is, her loft was full of weed with strong lights, surely the police can just look at average electricity use in an area and spot the house with the high usage – and bright lights shining out of the sky-light.. or maybe she supplies the police too..

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