To be clear, maybe I should add a word to the title here: only.
As in "When Only Boys Who Love Pot Also Love You." If it went before any other words -- like, Boys Who Love Pot Love Only Me -- it would be a much more terrifying problem to have.
But, it's a problem all the same.
In college, I relied largely on the phrase, “Wanna go smoke a bowl?” to seduce people, which may be part of the reason I am faced with the problem of having exlusively dated drug users.
It's a great way to get someone alone and relax, as I'm sure a lot of us discovered when we were 14. I'm now 26, and I'm still not sure I know a better way.
“Wanna go do shots?” was my Plan B, and that doesn't yield any higher quality boys (we won't get into Plan C, “Wanna go drink 40s outside somewhere?” ).
But I have since retired it, because of the exceptionally high yield of stoner boyfriends it has produced.
And that's the problem: It's just potheads who are attracted to me. The one glaring exception was a boy I met when I was studying abroad in Prague. I had been dancing to Green Day at a bar, because the official soundtrack of Prague is "7th grade bedroom." My enthusiasm for “Basket Case” must have spoken to the gentleman, who was the only Czech boy with dreadlocks I ever met. He asked me out, and we went on several charming dates around historic Prague's weirdest basement shows.
“These bushes, here,” he said to me as we held hands and walked the cobblestone streets, “I used to do heroin in them.”
I figured it must have been a translation issue.
“There are still needles in the bushes,” he continued. “I used to search them for used needles, when I did heroin.”
I made a note to myself to look up false cognates for “needles” and “heroin,” but I also made a note to probably not ever sleep with him.
The subsequent years brought some very nice but very high boys and boyfriends. So, so high.
Boys who would say things like, “Why won't you let me sell drugs out of your house?” and things like, “You're always trying to shut down my dreams!” You know. When they're high. On pot. Which is all the time.
As it stands, it's not a terrifying problem. It's pot. But it IS confusing.
For starters, I'm not sure why I do so well with the High-as-a-Goddamn-Kite demographic now that I've ditched my ace pickup line. What have I done to be so singularly attractive to druggy boys? I wear hooded sweatshirts, and I sometimes wear stocking caps indoors. That's as far as I've gotten in figuring it out.
It's fun to have marijuana constantly dictate the activities in your relationship. There are things like, “Wanna smoke before we do it?” and then things like, “Smoking put me in a really weird headspace just now. I'm not in the mood anymore and my mouth's too dry to kiss.”
Also, things like, “I swear I'm way different than your last boyfriend,” and things like, “Fuck, I just dropped my bag of weed off your roof.”
But as Dan Savage says, you are the common denominator in all of your relationships. And sure, I like a good bowl every so often. I also like the occasional craft beer, but have yet to be courted by a series of cartoon stereotypes of home brewers. Does the residual THC in my body radiate off me like stoney pheromones?
I don't outwardly demonstrate any other indicator of pot-friendliness than the fact that I constantly wear a hoodie, so I'm inclined to place blame there. Does the hood on my sweatshirt so repel boys with organizational abilities and respect for the daylight hours that they bypass me altogether for a girl wearing one of those shirts with the baggy turtlenecks? Cowl necks, my female friends have informed me they’re called.
I think I could be persuaded to wear one of those, because they remind me of a sexy hoodie on backward. It so happens that my mom just bought me one of those, so maybe my luck will literally turn around.
Do you consistently attract a certain "type"? And what do I have to do to stop being stoner bait?