Smoke some weed

With the practiced hands of a misspent youth, you open the plastic bag of weed and grind up a bit between your fingers, stuffing it into the bowl of a glass pipe on your nightstand. You nurse the bowl, getting about seven or eight hits out of it before the herb has turned to naught but ash. You stroll out the front door.

You have a few ideas from the get-go. When you were in high school, it was often said that young men who loitered around the Roshman Bar and Grill at night would be picked up by bored, horny housewives for one night stands. You also know of another dive bar a few blocks from your house, and there's also a play going on at your old high school that was sure to have many teachers and parents in attendance. You feel your eyes begin to dry out as a mellow disinterest washes over you.