Believe me, I had plenty of concerns about allowing my 16-year-old son Gandon to attend a music concert without a chaperone. What if ran away to be a roadie? What if he knocked some girl up? Thankfully, neither of these things came to pass, but Gandon is still in a world of trouble.
Even though he came home by his 10PM curfew, I am entirely convinced that Gandon is on vape.
I can tell because he’s smiling like he’s up to something; like he’s got a secret or a case of “the sillies.” (Note: Gandon is famously moody and wore black nail polish for a few weeks. It is extremely out of character to see him happy and laughing.)
After sniffing Gandon’s coat (which, by the way, is covered with pins and patches like some British weirdo) I called my neighbor Paul to see if he knew what vape smells like. While Paul did not know, it turns out he had seen the same episode of 20/20 about vape that I saw, and said he’d keep an eye out for me in the afternoons after Gandon has come home from school and before I get home from work to make sure there’s no funny business going on at our house.
We’re not running some Goddamn opium den over here, and if Gandon thinks he can pull one over on his old man by coming home totally zoned on vape, he’s got another thing coming.
There won’t be any concerts for my son any time soon.