My secret connections

In My life with bud by adminLeave a Comment

1-shh-be-quiet.gifMy first efforts.

Getting into “bud” is a most circuitous trail: dubious legality mixed with big cash money.  Consequently, no one speaks unless you have cash and they’re sure you won’t turn them in.   My first problems:  I look a lot like an FBI agent in farmer’s disguise, I am direct.  “I just want some good bud cream for my hands.”  I started with my friends which got me only looks of disdain or soft whispers.

In frustration I tried an illegal clinic in the neighboring town — the one with huge bright yellow signs — the same one the police kept regularly shutting down, only to reappear the next day.  Go figure, can’t hurt.  Wrong!  My direct and honest approach got me a silent, hostile reception,  an obvious outsider in the wrong place.  My friends, the ones who wouldn’t give me advice, said “Did you really go in THERE?”
Next, I tried the local “hemp consulting clinic” which is next door to a hydroponic growing supplier with all kinds of green marijuana leaves on display.  First new information:  if you have a permit, you can use the word “marijuana,” and people talk to you about drugs.  With no permit, it’s called “hemp” and you can grow rope.

In the clinic I found three kinds of people:  a receptionist who gave me piles of useless information on cheap paper, a “counselor” who had a tick in one eye and kept nodding “outside,” and three separate glass-partitioned, dark and messy rooms where I was told doctors would write me a prescription for $200 cash.   Wow, here was I, a decent guy,  among people who were either nodding and winking, or with doctors whom I wouldn’t trust with a band-aid; so I left again.  The “nodding counselor” met me in the parking lot, and offered me his card with picture of a little teddy bear.  Strange and getting stranger.

Finally I turned to one very bright young friend who, in addition to being a probable recreational user, was well-informed and well-connected.  “Where do I get some, what does it cost, and how do I try it safely?”  She had a friend/nurse who might be willing to talk to me, confidentially, of course.  A few days later I had her friend’s number and advice: find a supplier of good reputation and start slowly, little bits at a time; and don’t start by eating a “cookie,” look on the Internet.” I had never been warned about eating cookies but I felt little risk in looking on the Net.  Perhaps there I could find that illusive supplier of good reputation.

Three weeks on.  I am feeling like this might not be such a good idea.

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