Smoking in the Big Apple

New York, I actually love you now. The times we’ve spent together have been tumultuous, noisy and not very lovely. But this trip has been quite lovely. Besides seeing two of my dearest friends, Emily and Nettie, I feel I have connected greatly to the people of New York, unsurprisingly, with cannabis (among other things).

In an early morning Uber ride, I met Sajanpesdka… He told me to call him SP because his name is too long. I assume he was Pakistani but I can never really tell and does it really even matter? After I smoked my last joint on the stoop of Emily’s apartment in Hell’s Kitchen at a brisk 6:30 a.m., aka hell because it’s two blocks from Time’s Square, SP picked me up in his Hyundai. For the first ten or so minutes I had to get in the grove of my high, get my SZA in my ears. Once we exited Manhattan and came over a bridge to the rising sun over the city’s boroughs, I thought now was a good time to see what this guy’s all about. I initiated with how beautiful the city was and how sad I was to be leaving. After a few minutes pause, he asked me where I was from, or traveling back to.

I told him I was traveling back to Colorado where I live and work in the cannabis industry. We had the usual ‘do you consume marijuana in any way’ conversation in which I tell him my love for cannabis, both smoking weed and the restorative qualities of CBD Hemp oil. I tell him he must come visit and I’ll show him the way of my lifestyle. He spoke of friends who have moved West to Denver and discovered a lifestyle similar to mine. It’s a lovely one — marijuana is a democratic drug, I tell him. He smirks back to me in the rearview mirror. I’ve made a friend. I give him my card and tell him to text me, Facebook me, we will stay in contact — which I fully intend to do. A similar thing actually happened to me in my uber ride into New York city, another youngish uber driver from Georgia the country. I told him of my good friend Ia who is also from Georgia, and show her picture from Facebook (fucking amazing technology is good god), and he says she has a Georgian face. Another lady I met in a restaurant wanted to hear all about the CBD hemp oil I was using. Cannabis for all.

Besides making new friends, I was here to see the old friends, from college. That sounds old, but I only graduated a year ago. Nettie and I frolicked around the city like I had lived there the last two years with her — another version of Abbi and Ilana from Broad City, the OG queens. I smoked joints on the streets of New York like I was visiting my former homeland.

When I get back to Colorado, I meet a new man in my apartment building who asks me to smoke with him. He loves fishing trout, snowboarding and his cat Mr. Kitty. He offers to show me how to fly fish at the creek and I make the mistake of agreeing. Those are 10 minutes I'll never get back.