A lemon in a field of broccoli
“Don’t smoke it. Don’t bring it in the house and you damn sure bet’ not ever sell it!”
Living a more or less sheltered life, these were the rules when it came to the subject of marijuana. It’s debauchery. It’s an illegal drug, didn’t you pay attention during Dare classes?! Don’t talk to strangers and don’t do drugs.
Thanks to these mandates in the average American household, for the longest, I would not even be in the same room with anyone who even started to talk about marijuana or any of its aliases: weed, skunk, pot, MJ, Jane, Jay, blunt, bud and that’s just to name a few. In college, being a social smoker was a thing; however, it was one thing to be amongst a group that smoked cigarettes because they were stressed out from classes, nervous before taking an exam, or they had just gotten into a fight with their significant other so they just wanted to chill before they went off the deep end. To be around the people that smoked weed, now that seemed like another world. They would disappear in room and have someone stand guard of the door so no one could come in and disrupt them. The smell coming out of the room was always pungent. That in itself was enough to turn any suspecting person away. They would come out of the room in a gaze as if they seen a ghost, but a super friendly one. If anyone asked them if they were ok, they would always respond by saying “ I’m smacked”. Prior to this, I had never heard any one use the word “smacked” in a positive connotation so I just followed suit with the idea that this was not something to be tampered with.
As I got older, I began to grow a disdain towards weed, not that I judged people for smoking it, but it was just something I would rather not have in my presence. It was simply a smell that could not be hidden. Smokers would always say they knew how to hide the smell with all kinds of blunt sprays. Lies, lies, and more lies. The sprays don’t work, just ask any non-smoker. We can smell the scent of weed from miles away without question no matter what spray or fragrance you use. I drove for Uber and Lyft for 6 years in the city as it started to become legal but with special parameters. No matter what people used prior to getting in the car as soon the door would open, the pungent skunk monkey would waltz right in my car along with the passenger and I would have to endure the smell for the next umpteen minutes I had the passenger in my car.
Fast forward two years and how ironic is it that I now work in an office to promote and push weed in Washington DC underworking initiative -71. Knowing the strains, understanding concentrates, baking with cannabutter, improving ways of picking up weed in DC, and now launching my own CBD body butter aimed at individuals with muscle pain, arthritis, and feminine pain has been an intense learning experience. Even though I still don’t smoke and it still smells strange, learning the ins and outs of it and how to get weed in DC is like a science. The 2020 election proved that America is turning a new leaf in the conversation of legalization and acceptance of so many other substances such as mushrooms and even cocaine in some areas. Oddly enough, the business of it works like any other supply chain or retail sales business. Most people outside of the 420 world wouldn’t think so but mastering the business of it and the audience you are catering to all has an algorithm similar to a successful bar or restaurant.
I feel that society is beginning to shift away from the world of clinical medicine and more to naturally occurring substances. Medical marijuana has shown very real performance comparable to the pharmaceutical business helping people get through things like anxiety, chronic pain, and insomnia just to give you an idea. There is much more to be learned and accomplished in harnessing its benefits. Now if someone can just master the skunk smell that would split the iceberg.
Written By: Lady Kay
