How it All Started
Disclaimer: Based on a true story. Certain names and locations have been altered to protect the identities of those involved.
Everyone has their own story about how they got into the cannabis industry, not too dissimilar from everyone having their own story about the first time they consumed cannabis. This is my story. Sophomore year in high school, I went to a party at Andy Evans’ house along with my buddy Jack Walters.
First, let me set the stage. This party was epic—think of the late 90’s teen movie Can’t Hardly Wait as a backdrop. Andy was a senior and one of the most popular people in our high school. Normally, we would never be invited to such a shindig. Luckily for us, my sister was one of his best friends, so Jack and I were in.
I bought an oz of mexibrick and brought it with me to the party. I divided it into 14 dime bags, at 2 grams apiece (half of the weight was probably seeds), I sold out in an hr. It’s worth mentioning that I smoked most of that oz with the people I sold it to, and as I alluded to earlier, these were the “cool kids,” and mostly seniors to boot. I made $50 in that hour and did it by being “the man”—at 15 years old, that kind of money in 1998 was great. And I did it by basically smoking my way into popularity. Needless to say, I was hooked. As much as I like smoking bud—and I do—I think selling it is even better, especially when I’m smoking it at the same time!
Fast forward to Monday at school, and not only did I make a quantum leap in popularity, but I realized that one instance had already positioned me to sell more bud. It wasn’t my intention to become a “dealer” that night; I didn’t choose cannabis—it chose me. So when people were coming up to me during passing period in the halls and asked, “Do you have any more of that stuff from Saturday?” I was like, “bet.”
I didn’t know it at the time, but later I found out that I was getting that cannabis from “The Mob,” and that’s all I’m going to say about that. Later on, I graduated to working for one of the cartels from our sister country just beneath us. Again, I didn’t know that until after the fact, and again, that’s all I’m going to say about that.
As is obvious from previous blog posts, I eventually graduated to growing my own and starting my own black market dispensary, which I only feel comfortable discussing because I got busted, so there is no incriminating after the fact.
As the United States finally started to catch up to me, I had the pleasure and (mostly) displeasure of working in the legal space in the cannabis industry, which is probably just as corrupt and fucked, if not more, than the legacy/black market. Here are some of the previous blog posts I have written concerning this:
Leafbuyer Technologies AKA Fucking Scum Bags
Legacy Roots Corporate Suits: The Tension Defining Cannabis Today
Multi-State Operators and How They Are Destroying the Quality of Product in IL
My Experience Interviewing at Dispensaries
My Experience in the Commercial Concentrate World
I have to say, the nostalgia of thinking back to the black market is pretty awesome. Don’t get me wrong—I’m so happy to be able to legally grow my own medicine now, not to mention just getting bud back in the day was exhausting. But it’s pretty fascinating to be alive in a time when we went from the black market to cannabis being legalized in most places in this country, not to mention having a hand in legalization as a former board member of Denver NORML.
I honestly never thought that I would see the day, and while we’ve fucked up legalization royally in this country with our typical American/government business model of exploiting our consumers/citizens with the most bastardized version of this plant we can produce, it lays the groundwork for a lot of people to be able to grow their own medicine, which is what we should all be doing—not only with our cannabis and fungus, but also our fruits and vegetables—in a way that is sustainable and nourishes the earth, not detracts from it. One love.
