Quote:
Originally Posted by Donger
My brother lives near one shop downtown apparently. He told me that I would likely start gagging within a few hundred feet of the store.
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I went to two. Both obviously in industrial areas but neither in a ghetto. One looked like a convenience store and the other looked like a neighborhood bar. Neither had any noticeable aroma outside although both had very obnoxious signage. I feel like a qualifier to buying weed should be the ability to find the place without 4 feet tall letters spelling marijuana or a bright green neon sign. But whatever, I get that I'm an old lady.
You stand in a line that has some very similar characteristics to the lines you stand in at sex shoppes. Without any of the sexual overtones. You often have to wait around 10 minutes to speak to a budtender and there is nothing to do but curiously look at each other and speculate on just how deviant we are. I saw... Lots of my age guys in polo shirts. You know they were engineers or designers or architects. You could smell it. 1 guy that looked like a banker. Although he was ashamed he was there if his downcast eyes and shifting feet were any indication. A few guys that looked like Snoop Dogg. A few couples where swear to God, all of them were cuddling in line, sweetly, not grossly. A couple alternative chicks that came in alone. I tried not to stare too much at them although those are the best ones to stare at.
And then you go to a counter, or into a room, and the most pleasant people in the world spend however much time you want wafting large glass containers of the most beautiful flowers under your nose. Like giant brandy snifters. With all the dispatch of a sommelier, they have whatever your taste desires.
AND THEN WE GO EAT COOKIES.