and random long-distance-relationship meetups that have taken me everywhere from Albuquerque, New Mexico to Portland .
In Southern California, where I spent the month of November with my partner, obtaining weed is laughably easy; the state legalized the use, sale, and cultivation of recreational cannabis for adults 21 and over in 2016, and at this point, L.A. is absolutely saturated with dispensaries.
In New York, the state where I was raised and where most of my friends and family still live, recreational use of marijuana was legalized in 2021; in fact, my best friend lives upstate and works at a dispensary just across the Massachusetts border, where New York stoners in the know have been picking up their weed for years.
, in the East Village; a week later, I peer-pressured two friends, one a medium smoker and one a self-professed “weed virgin,” into joining me there to check out the scene. As we’d predicted, the line was around the block, and the presence of two police officers monitoring the scene from the corner of Astor Place and Broadway didn’t exactly conjure the chillest of atmospheres. I briefly found myself missing the weed bodega, a place where I’d never had to wait in line.
I am happy to see laws banning herbal sedatives banished. When mean drug addicts try to act like nothing but cannabis users and people believe them,the bad stereotype of a hippie starts. Honestly, homicides going way down, renovations going way up and cocaine users going down.
“What’s the weed situation like at my next destination?” 😁
👎