The Skeeter Daddle Diaries

A bunch of us yahoos went up to the Bud Hut yesterday, the island’s premier cannabis emporium, to have a little look around. After years of black marketeering on the Green South End, the boyz wanted to evaluate the ‘competition’. The staff checked our ID’s and criminal records, decided we were old enough and no outstanding warrants, then let us loose in the joint, no pun intended.

Two Toke Tom thought he’d died and gone to heaven. “Look at the inventory,” he whispered in a voice just this side of Reverential, and sure enough, there were glass cases filled with more strains of marijuana than Two Toke had tried in his entire 63 years on this earth. There were Indicas and Sativas, blends and hybrids, edibles and smokeables, oils and salves, balms and ointments, bongs and hookahs, pipes and vaporizers. The store offered everything an old pothead could’ve dreamed of if he’d ever dreamed one day the stuff would become legal. I thought Tom might weep.

All of us wandered the place for half an hour, asked the staff dopey questions and marveled at the assortment of bud and paraphernalia. We pinched ourselves. But when we left, we mostly left empty handed except for Two Toke who declared he needed to buy something legally just because he could.

Back in his ’65 VW bus, we were all silent for awhile. About halfway home, Tom broke the mood. “Boys,” he said, “I think we’ve seen the future. And it ain’t us. Someday they’ll make documentaries about the likes of us.” We all shook our collective heads. Prohibition was over and we moonshiners were driving into the fogbank of history. By the time we reached the South End we were pretty much gone.

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This entry was posted on Monday, September 21st, 2015 at 4:00 pm and is filed under rantings and ravings. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.