Long before we had medical cannabis in this state, I would still love to get high at the beach.
Because of the tides and the wind and the wide-open spaces, it was easy to smoke weed on the shoreline and not get caught.
The wind always disperses the smoke so quickly I could be smoking right next to a cop and they would never notice. I have always been fascinated by the beach. I can sit and listen to the waves crashing against the sand for hours. Of course these days there is limited legalization for certain kinds of medical cannabis. This doesn’t apply to me, because I don’t have a prescription. I still need to get my cannabis the old-fashioned way – illegally, from some greasy high school kid behind the gas station. In this case my cannabis dealer is named Tyler, who took over the business from MacKenzie when she graduated from high school. Once or twice a week I send a text message to Tyler with how much money I want to spend on cannabis. We meet in the alley and exchange cash for cannabis and then go our separate ways. I have been asked if I feel like a scumbag for buying cannabis from a kid, and of course the answer is yes! I don’t want to meet this weird kid in a dark alley for an illegal cannabis transaction, but I don’t have much choice! If the state would relax its strict policies then I could start shopping at a cannabis dispensary like a normal person.