High Stories: “I Got So High, I Thought My DoorDash Driver Was an Old Situationship Trying to Reconnect.”

Let me start by saying: edibles are sneaky. I didn’t plan to spiral. I just wanted pad thai and peace. Instead, I ended up pacing my apartment like I was in a 90s rom-com about to fall in love with my delivery driver.

I had taken maybe 20mg—nothing wild, just enough to enhance the vibes while I deep-cleaned my apartment and pretended I was in a music video. Then the munchies hit with the force of a thousand suns, and I did what any responsible stoner would do: DoorDash. I place the order. I’m tracking the little car on the map. Cool.

Then I get the text:

“Hey, I’m outside :)”

Why the smiley? Why the energy?

I see the name. It’s vaguely familiar. Suddenly my brain is doing cartwheels.

“Is this... Michael?” “Wait—is my ex-situationship working for DoorDash now?” “Is this his way of reaching out???” “Is this... love?”

I’m high, spiraling, and looking out the peephole like I’m about to be on Love Is Blind. I even dab a little perfume behind my ears. For what? I don’t know. Emotional closure?

I open the door.

It’s not Michael. It’s a sweet guy who simply hands me my food and says, “Enjoy!”

No drama. No romantic subplot. Just one spring roll short of a full order.