I gave it up years ago,except when there was no way out.
My wife called me to pick her up last fall at her sisters house,about a mile and half away. I'd bought an oz of the local outdoor grown earlier in the day and had just taken a couple or five big bong rips just before she called. Her sister had sprained her right foot that evening and couldn't drive her back. I didn't feel that ripped,plus it was around midnight,traffic would be light, so I figured "Why not?"
Now most of local outdoor stuff has a sneaky creeper high,something I tend to forget over the course of a year. By the time I backed out of the driveway and got halfway down the block,I knew I'd made a big mistake.
The drive,which is level all the way up,felt like I was navigating a crab boat off the coast of Alaska. By the time I got to the sisters house,I was unable to figure out how operate the electric locks in my ten year old Subaru. Hell,I was so tangled up in the seat belt I couldn't even reach over to unlock the door? It was a damned good thing she had her keys or she would have never got in.
She's laughin' her ass off at me,but does she offer to drive? Nooooooo!
I get down to a church parking lot at the end of her sister's street and pull in. I say,"You're drivin',take me to Wendy's for a large Frosty."
That's the last time I drove high.