Doctor CamNC4Me wrote: ↑Mon Jun 21, 2021 2:09 pm
honorentheos wrote: ↑Mon Jun 21, 2021 5:10 am
On a tangential note, I thought about posting to describe my first venture into a legal dispensary today. It reminded me of my first visit to a Starbucks. Everywhere there is coffee, but coffee isn't on the menu.
You should. My wife has a medical marijuana card through Utah, and as such I've been in dispensaries in NV, CA, and Washington state. Granted, the UT card only works for UT, but since she's a fan of the thc I'm collaterally involved. I don't use any marijuana products, with the exception of some CBD lotion she picked up and the occasional 1mg pill if I'm fighting a migraine - the CBD and tiny amount of thc seems to compliment Excedrin when things are getting rough. Other than that, I'm a coffee and cigar guy.
- Doc
Legal dispensaries are sprouting up everywhere in Phoenix, it seems, and I've been curious about them. I've never bought MJ, legally or illegally. But I have been high, or buzzed at least, on many occasions. So it was on my mind that I should stop in sometime and check one out.
This last Sunday I happened to be out early in the morning visiting a few project locations associated with work and was heading home when I noticed a new, fairly large dispensary building on the route. It was early still, maybe 8:30 AM, but I thought, "Why not?" and pulled in the parking lot. I wasn't sure if they were open, and it wouldn't have surprised me to find out they weren't given I don't know how may people go out to buy weed that early on a Sunday. They were, and had opened at 8 AM like they apparently do every day. That was unexpected.
I walked up to the door which had a large keypad lock on it and again assumed the door would be locked but it wasn't. It led into a lobby area of sorts, maybe 10 feet wide but ran the length of the building frontage which was around 30 feet. Down at the other end of the lobby set back into the wall area were what appeared to be two cashiers. Immediately next to the entrance that I came in was a second door behind which I could see was the main shopping area. I thought it was odd that the cashiers would be outside the main area but thought perhaps it was a situation where you ordered and then had to pay on the way out where they'd bring what you purchased up for security reasons or something. So I reached for this door, to immediately have a lady inside the room standing next to it turn around and give me a finger wag while saying, "Sorry hun, you still need to check in. Every time." Guess they weren't cashiers, then.
Going up to check in, I was greeted by two women in their early 20s, each of whom turned out to be behind a computer with scanners attached. I handed one my drivers license, she scanned it and asked if I'd been there before? I told her nope, it was my first time. She asked me for my phone number and asked if I wanted to be added to their email list. I gave her my phone number but noped out of sharing my email or signing up for the list. When I went back to the interior door into the main room I found myself finally encountering the locked door I'd been expecting but until then not actually finding. It struck me as funny, but I didn't have to wait outside too long as the lady who had called me Hun fast-walked back over to what appeared to be her work station and let me in. She gave me another apology for the delay, asked if I had been there before as well, and then pointed me to a counter with man standing behind it. I thought I would be able to browse a bit and get the feel of things first but apparently not.
The room itself was deep, maybe 50 feet or so and the three walls not adjacent to the lobby were entirely behind display counters with multiple people standing at computer monitors distributed long all three sides of the room. The man she had pointed me to was on the left side of the room and he waved me over. Turned out that his computer actually was a register. He asked me again if it was my first time and then asked to see my ID again. He was nice but I got the feeling he was doing something he didn't normally do. Like I was an inspector checking to see if they were following protocols and he wasn't going to be the one who slipped up.
While he was doing that I tried to get the lay of the land, expecting since they'd sent me to him that it was the easy button station. I have a tobacconist I visit for cigars and pipe tobacco, and I guess I expected something more like that, where there were jars of pipe tobacco behind the counter with pleasant names that evoked what one would expect from a particular smoke. Where the pipes and gear would out in the middle but the product itself was out to be shopped.
Instead, most of what was visible wasn't much different than a cheap smoke shop with glass pipes, water bongs, and way too many psychedelic wrapped items to be able to quickly navigate it visually. The main difference I noted in the brief moment I had while he was checking my ID on his computer was the cigarette packs on the wall behind him were not any brands you'd see in a gas station.
He gave me my ID back after a few seconds, asked if I was a dad and. when I answered affirmatively, he offered up a happy father's day and noted there was a discount for being a dad on some items. Then he asked how he could help me?
I told him, "I haven't really bought anything at a place like this before, and I was just looking for something that I could smoke out of a pipe I already owned." He said, "Oh, you want shake or flower? Probably flower. It's back here," and started to walk around the back of the counters to a door in the middle of the back wall which was not a short distance away. I started to follow him assuming I was going to be taken to a part of the dispensary where I would be greeted with jars of "flower" but he stopped me and told me I could just hang out while he grabbed it for me.
I had a full minute to then try and get the measure of the place before he came back out. There were a lot of people working there, which was interesting for just before 9 AM on a Sunday, but also maybe a half-dozen people who didn't appear to be working but either picking up an online order (I found out once you're registered you can do that and just have to pick up) or were chatting with one of the workers like they were talking with a bartender. No where did I see anything that looked like a a legible and easy to read menu of what the store had to offer. No pictures like at an asian fast-food restaurant. No obvious marketing of a particular brand. Nothing that had nomenclature and a price next to it. It was more like an Apple Store that had been redecorated by deadheads as a prank right before I got there.
When he came out, he rang me up quickly and, when I offered him my card, he told me it had to be cash but there were two ATMs so it was no big deal. And they only charged a dollar fee. Cool.
So I got some cash and paid the roughly $50 for 1/2 ounce, dropping some of the change in the jar near the register. He asked me if I had plans for the day? I told him the basics - some more work, looking forward to some down time that afternoon. People who work retail don't know the grind that is the life of a professional where no one comes in to take over your shift so to them saying I had to work on a Sunday probably was as poorly understood as when he asked me if I wanted shake or flower. Language is weird. He said happy father's day again, and I was on my way with a small little black sealed bag.
When I went out the interior door into the lobby, a short, athletic-looking guard dressed in black military-style gear was now at the front door. He opened it for me and had the look of someone who had carried a weapon for a living. Not a poser chubby white guy guard. He was either an ex-cop or, more likely, ex-military. He didn't seem keen on people who shopped at dispensaries but it could also have just been his resting pro-“F”-you-up face, too. Don't know.
Anyway, it was weird. When I got home, I checked out the website for the place and realized it probably caters to people who order ahead. The website is slick, you can sort by the level of high you are looking for, browse the edibles and oils, and even check out when they are offering pot pizza slices.
That's why it reminded me of my first experience in a Starbucks. I went in expecting to see a lot of options for getting coffee and was blindsided by insider culture I wasn't prepared for nor even know I needed to know to actually navigate the space. Once you've got the Venti-Americano language down it's nothing but a thing.
I mixed it with some of my favorite pipe tobacco and had a smoke that afternoon. It was nice.
So, prologue, why was I even interested in this if I'd never really bought weed before? It has to do with my history with pot.
The first time I ever got high was as a missionary. We had tracked into the home of a man roughly in his mid-30s who invited us in to talk. He was interested in spirituality, and it turned out he'd lived in India for a few years pursuing some sort of Hindu teachings. Later on when I read Maugham's The Razor's Edge, he came to mind as fitting the type. While we talked he offered us some herbal tea. In Switzerland, offering herbal tea to guests was common, and we'd been told it was ok to drink non-black tea. I was very new in the field, and figured we were ok to drink the tea when my senior comp had confirmed we didn't drink black tea but herbal teas were ok. The man asked what kind of tea we liked and I told him I preferred mint over most of the kinds I'd tried to that point. He was happy to share he grew his own tea and stepped out to his garden to pick some fresh before we got started. It was GREAT tea. Easily the best I'd had since arriving. And the conversation was chill and it took me a moment to start questioning if maybe tea had more in it than just mint. Turned out, yeah, it was mint and cannabis. I felt a bit guilty...but honestly not that guilty. Even more honestly, I kinda wished the tea wasn't off limits. It's the only thing I've ever tried that was against the Word of Wisdom where my first exposure was all positive. Alcohol was an acquired taste, and while I enjoy cigars and a pipe on occasion I find nicotine to be a bit unpleasant in its effects while the taste of a good cigar can be fleeting and fickle. Coffee I like, but it took time to move beyond the cream and sugar filler and come to appreciate the earthy flavor of the coffee itself. Anyway.
I was also a bit of a late comer to the concert scene. Through high school I'd never been to see any of the musicians I enjoyed and had only been to a few operas which was funny to most of my friends given my musical tastes covered the spectrum. But in college I discovered my second religion was live music. God I loved going to shows, being in a crowd and feeling the music. But I also found the second-hand buzz that came with everyone lighting up to be part of it.
My post-Mormon adult experience with MJ was really limited as well. While I'd been offered a hit while hanging out with friends on a few occasions the truth was I didn't want to “F” up my job more than I wanted to get high. I'd accepted a pot brownie while out camping because it was the first night and I wasn't concerned come Monday. But otherwise, it wasn't until it was legal for recreational use here in Arizona that I felt ok about it. Duty or something, I just couldn't do it when it was illegal. Which sounds dumb I guess, but it's true.
