This one put me back in touch with my inner caveman.
It's June 2003, I've just finished the most punishing term of three at university, and it's time to meet up with my crew back home for some degree-level partying (kids on B3ta -you ain't seen nothing yet.)
We decide to drive off to a remote spot on the South Downs to smoke some weed. We make a proper preparation for it, stopping at Tesco to get drinks, munchies, magazines, all the ingredients for an all-night-long funathon. Reach said destination, a layby in the road with a stunning view and a sense of isolation. Pull up. Skin up a large one. Then realise ... only regular smoker in the party has lost his cigarette lighter. Needless to say, the car doesn't have one.
So it's 10.30 at night, we're a priveleged bunch of students stuck out in the sticks carrying on us such technological marvels of our age as mobile phones and MP3 players, and have to rediscover the most ancient craft known to man: making fire.
Some bright spark (ho ho - see what I did there?) suggests somehow using the car's battery to make a spark. Car owner is resolutely against this as he doesn't know much about electrics and is convinced that we'll explode the battery somehow. Eventually he is persuaded to let us try. We get two wires out of car stereo, tie them to positive and negative and bring them together slowly. Sure enough, it works a beauty, and a bit of puffing later and we're nicely aglow.
We ended up completely monged out our minds that night because to keep the fire going we had to roll the next joint before the previous one went out. It was quite fun actually. I'd like there to be an entertaining postscript to finish this story but that's about it really.
(CerberaSpeedTwelve, Fri 3 Dec 2004, 22:03, Reply)