June 1, 2006
I attended my last CAT bivouac in high school, as a high-ranked officer. Among the responsibilities I had was to oversee the younger cadets acting like the biggest asshole, making sure they were in their best behavior. While I was doing the midnight round, I heard funny sounds come from one of the tents. Obviously there weren’t supposed to be any funny sounds coming from anywhere—lights were out, people were supposed to be asleep. When I checked the tent, I found some cadets passing the doochie, puffing the dragon, and rolling some more spliffs. Movement ceased when they saw me. I knew they were deathly afraid, not only because they weren’t supposed to be up but because they were playing with things other than legal. But knowing what the good time was from any other good time, I crawled to I join them for a round of smokes. Undoubtedly that was classified information not even the commandant ever found out.
Puffy, by email
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