Illinois Legal Cannabis Reviews

GTI Black Afghan is a potent Indica strain, high in THC, with a vintage lineage, and exotic taste and smell. Nature’s Grace and Wellness Skywalker is another Indica, a hybrid dominated by Afghani. Spreading a dab of batter on a bud of Black Afghan brings out the cerebral hints of the Thai inherent in both, while the Afghani washes over your body in waves. 

My wife loves me so I get weed for my birthday 

GTI Black Afghan is likely my favorite strain of flower. I love the Indica buzz, but also the taste and smell. Rush, the band pointed it out to me way back in the seventies, in the song Passage To Bangkok. “The fragrance of Afghanistan, rewards a long day’s toil.” 

It’s the one strain I couldn’t imagine not having on hand. Actually most any Afghan will keep happy. But GTI Black Afghan makes me the happiest.

My birthday is next week and the wife asked what I wanted. “Hash?”

“Actually no,” I replied. “That’s not been around for a while.” The last time I looked the dispensary didn’t have anything I needed, and I had a decent stash left of the regulars. “But I’ll take a look.”

Benjamin Franklin never said that beer was proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy. He actually said that about wine. But to bastardize the old fart, weed for your birthday is proof your wife loves you and wants you to be happy. 

I went to the website and surprisingly, GTI Black Afghan was in stock. I was getting low on concentrate, and knew Azrael was on sale. I looked. It was sold out. 

“Fuck.”

Then I saw Skywalker was in stock. Skywalker is another Afghan, another Indica. It’s a hybrid, but like Black Afghan, with only classic strains. 

We had planned a romantic interlude for that afternoon. We headed for ThriveIL in Harrisburg instead. We had the night after all. 

GTI Black Afghan’s relaxing buzz makes for mellow, but psychedelic ride to the dispensary

I took a few bong hits before we left of Black Afghan which I still had on hand. It knocked me into a daze which I happily wandered in all afternoon. As I was pretty much locked to the car seat with a body buzz, I chatted away constantly. I was amazed by almost everything I saw along the country highways to Harrisburg. And back as well. 

I’m usually a nervous passenger. But I forgot to worry the whole trip. That I chalk up to the relaxing properties of GTI Black Afghan.

I had to navigate Walmart, and that’s where the munchies hit. For the past four weeks, I’ve done amazing on my diet. I’d suddenly found a resolve I’d been lacking.

I came out there with a box of fried chicken and potato wedges, and a bag of chocolate covered almonds.  After putting that and the groceries away, I napped hard. 

Building the perfect buzz that goes from relaxation to horny … and back again

Before supper we sat on the couch and I filled the pipe with a small bud from the new batch of GTI Black Afghan. My birthday present. She thought about getting me a robe, as my elbow pops out of this one. But I persuaded her that this would make me happier. And she loves to see me happy. Which can be unusual in relationships it seems. I’m lucky that way. 

It seems that usually there’s one or two big buds and a few smaller ones in an eighth of GTI Black Afghan. Sometimes you get one of those you hate to break up, that you want to name because you just want to keep it forever. 

It might have been the tastiest bowl I’ve ever smoked. It was full bodied Afghan, rich and earthy, with that bite of Thai floating on the top. And it hit hard. 

The lineage of this plant starts with Afghan #1 – about as pure as you can get. It’s crossed with Black Domina, itself created from four classic strains – Afghani, Hash Plant- also an Afghani, Ortega which is a Thai and Northern Lights. Northern Light is a cross between Afghan and Thai. 

Thai is another one of the strains I keep on hand. Also thanks to Rush, and the same song as a matter of fact. 

As romance was on for the evening, I thought it a good idea to try to relax. So I dabbed a bit of Nature Grace And Wellness’ Skywalker over it. Skywalker is a cross between Mazar Sharif, another legendary Afghani strain, and Blueberry, a cross of Thai and Purple Thai. 

In short, it’s a heavy Indica, mainly Afghani, with enough Thai to make it mind blowing, as well as sedating. Both the flower and the badder were extremely complimentary. That accents the tastes and effects of the buzz, rather than muddying it up. 

It might have been the tastiest bowl I’ve ever smoked. It was full bodied Afghan, rich and earthy, with that bite of Thai floating on the top. And it hit hard. 

It was a while before I paused in the rambling train of thought that poured out of my mouth, and the wife reminded me I was supposed to be taking a shower. I remembered. Romance. 

GTI Black Afghan and Nature’s Grace and Wellness’ Skywalker makes shower time introspection time

So I’m in the bathroom, the water is running and I unbuckle my belt and in the mirror I’m seeing myself as on a tv screen. My brain flashes back to something I’d long forgotten. 

I was watching Hawaii Five-O on television, I must have been about six. The villain on the show was a terrible man. One of the most feared McGarrett, Danno and Chin Ho had ever faced. He had a girl kidnapped and tied to the bed in his hotel room. On the screen, it showed him unbuckling his belt, and the top button of his pants. 

To a six year old, who barely had a concept of sex, this left an unfortunate impression on the brain. I knew this was about sex, and so reasoned that sex was punishment for a women. They didn’t like it. They feared it. And feared masculine aggression, so I decided not to develop it a macho facade. 

It took McMillan and Wife and Susan Saint James a few years later to convince me that Hawaii Five-O might have had it wrong, and that women might not find sex so objectionable. I stood in the bathroom, pondering if Rock Hudson had come out of the closet before that show, I might have turned out gay? Such was the sexual indoctrination my parents subjected me to in their TV choices. 

Or I could have become a detective. 

By puberty, the anti-male way of thinking was firmly ingrained. I never got into working on cars, contact sports, hunting or fishing, or any of those manly pursuits. 

And I was never the aggressive party when it came to encounters with the opposite sex. I never found my inner Tony The Tiger. I never have been able to equate being relaxed with having sex. Maybe, I reasoned, stepping into the hot water of the shower stall, I’m just always afraid I’ll fart. 

In the rain forest of the shower, the senses come alive

“Fuck I”m high,” I thought as I washed my hair. The train of thought was a locomotive. I knew it was likely all bullshit, but seemed illuminating at the time. 

We’ve got one of those wide shower heads, so you don’t have to aim it. The flow isn’t overly strong, so it’s like standing outside in the rain. 

When it comes to soap, I have a preference. Pine Tar from Dr. Squatch. It smells like an old growth forest, which seems to me the perfect place to take a shower. Except for snakes or bugs, and so in some ways if you can close your eyes and find it smells like the woods, it’s better than the real thing. 

Besides, rain is never this warm. 

I knew the bathroom would be cold, and when I stepped out of the shower I’d be faced with the chill. This incredible physical sensation I was experiencing would stop abruptly. I decided to hang out in there a little longer. 

So Black Afghan and Skywalker bring the senses to life. Which without going into undo detail, made the rest of the night very nice as well. 

This is your brain on drugs: From Hawaii FiveO to Marcus Welby in one shower

It was about then that I realized this weed review was writing itself, and I cackled. The wife wondered what I was laughing at. I couldn’t explain it from the shower, because the movie was still going on. 

The best way to review GTI Black Afghan and Nature Grace and Wellness’ Skywalker was to just spill out the thoughts as they happened. This is your brain on drugs. 

I lifted my foot to wash the bottom and saw white blotches on the ball and some of the toes. I realized they were where I had some really nasty blisters a few times, a few years before. Blisters upon blisters. I began to wonder why they were lighter. Could that be part of the cause of the neuropathy I’ve developed over the years?

It was fascinating. I’d stand a moment, lift one foot and for two or three seconds, the spots shone bright. Then faded away. Could it be that the flesh under the skin was scar tissue, and blood didn’t flow there as easily?

I became fixated. I’d love to show that to my podiatrist, but the only way I could see to do it was to have him in the shower with me. As Rock Hudson was straight in McMillan and Wife, the thought made me uncomfortable and I switched off the water. 

Coming down from GTI Black Afghani and Nature’s Grace and Wellness’ Skywalker 

I didn’t touch the pipe the rest of the night. It’s after midnight now, and my mind is still racing. And my body is about as relaxed as it could possibly be. 

In the interest of full disclosure, I had two Dark Stella Artois and a shot of Jagermeister. Which likely has helped with the full body buzz I’ve had for most of the night. 

As for mind to body buzz, I’ll say this. After romance with the wife and putting her to bed, I still managed to write and edit this review. The brain is still chugging away. Typically the first step is taking a photo of what I’ve brought home, and I write the reviews later. Sometimes months later. 

Tonight the body buzz is strong enough that I don’t want to have to open the drawers to see which one I’ve stashed my camera in. But my fingers are willing to type, as long as I don’t have to move the rest of my body. It’s a pretty good balance of mind and body buzz.

It’s what it did to the mind that amazes me. At the moment, it feels like it used to feel coming down off acid, when your mind was still going with what felt like essential knowledge about yourself, bubbling up from the unconscious. The blinders fall from your eyes and you can see clearly. 

I expect to look over and see Buddha staring back at me. Not the cat.

That’s the buzz talking. As anyone who wrote down those rambling thoughts at times like that found out the next morning when they read them back. Or we mercifully forget. 

When a weed can do that, it’s worth keeping on hand. I can’t image what profession would let you spend your days and nights stoned like this. But the mountains of Afghan are a nice escape for a sleepy Saturday. 

The Particulars …

GTI Black Afghan: Indica dominant hybrid of Afghan #1 and Black Domina. In short, a heavy Afghani with a dash of Thai. THC 23.9%

Nature’s Grace and Wellness Badder Skywalker: Another Indica dominant hybrid of Blueberry and Mazar I Sharif. A bit more balanced between Afghani and Thai. THC 73.3%

Bedford Grow’s Azrael is an Indica dominant hybrid that’s relaxing, but stimulates the brain as well. It might not help with cognitive processes, or their efficiencies. Pretty high in THC, it lends itself to deeper thought, as long as you don’t take those thoughts too seriously. Just like the film where my guess is, Azrael got its name.

There’s a film called Dogma, starring Matt Damon and Ben Affleck. Often their films make me hurl, but they’re balanced by Jay and Silent Bob, the most obnoxious weed fueled comedy duo since Cheech and Chong. 

Dogma incorporated Catholic theology, demonology and a spiritual quest, with dick and weed jokes. The main nemesis of the film is of course, Azrael. 

When I saw Bedford Grow’s Azrael on the menu at ThriveIL in Harrisburg, I figured the name was because of his more well known occupation … the angel of death. Or demon, depending on where you fall in the Islamic, or Judeo Christian belief system. 

Being the dutiful researcher I am, I checked out the strains which turned out to be Bedford OG and … Dawgma. Someone at Bedford Grow must have a sick sense of humor. I ordered it on the spot. 

Bedford OG is a 80-30 Indica/Sativa hybrid, close to the Kush OG, and a very relaxing buzz. Calm is the word that comes to mind, with a burst of euphoria at the beginning. 

Dawgma is a 50-50 hybrid, also known for its euphoric effects. It also sharpens the the mind in a stoned sort of way, and the sativa gives it a lift. 

That lift is suppressed in Azrael, but it doesn’t strike you dead as the name might imply. Though the couch felt really good. The calmness of the OG and the spark to the imagination from the Dawgma made for a sweet afternoon, just sitting around the house. 

Well that’s what I remember, though in reality we spent part of the afternoon bailing water out of the basement from the rain outside that was seeping up through the floor. It was surprisingly zen-like, sucking the streams of water from between the bricks with the Shop Vac. 

That’s the key to Azrael. Even when doing the mundane, your mind is able to find something of interest to focus on. 

After a nap and supper, I loaded a new glass pipe with it. I found it at Thrive, and it had been buzzing me each time I saw it. It has a bee theme to it, and I dig the bees. It’s handblown from Empire Glassworks, a relatively high end brand. I don’t typically spend that much for paraphernalia, but Christmas was coming up. 

Well that’s what I remember, though in reality we spent part of the afternoon bailing water out of the basement from the rain outside that was seeping up through the floor. It was surprisingly zen-like, sucking the streams of water from between the bricks with the Shop Vac.

I made the point that if we didn’t get a real tree this year, I could afford the pipe, she encouraged me. Last year’s tree, now denuded and dry is still in the yard. She’s not a fan of Christmas anyway. But she loves to see me happy, and I love her for that. 

So I lit up and she popped in Harry Potter. The Order of the Phoenix I think. I seem to remember seeing these with my kid when they came out. I’m old school on fantasy books and films. It’s a bit too modern for my tastes, but perfectly enchanting to watch stoned, providing you don’t spend the film picking it apart. 

I fall into that camp usually. But the Azrael kept me kicked back on the couch, and content enough to just watch and fall into the story, not to look for the holes. I still did … but not enough to kill the pleasure for me. 

The pipe cooled the smoke a bit, more so than the hash oil pipe I’ve used for decades. It’s sturdy. You don’t get the sense you could drop it on a brick floor, but it would stand a good chance of surviving carpet. 

Afterwards I tried a couple of bong hits. It was smoother this way, easier to take more smoke without coughing. Much. It took the second to get the dose right, and even that provided a head rush. 

I literally melted and slid down to the edge of the chair, the back of my head resting against the top, like a slouching teenager. My eyes were closed and I remembered how a review said the effects were psychedelic. I opened my eyes to flashes of purple and red and yeah, even though it was only a flashing Halloween light still up in the lounge, it was fucking psychedelic. 

Azrael from Bedford Grow is a demon of a buzz. 

Bedford Grow’s Azrael
Hybrid of Bedford OG and Dawgma
THC: 26.38%

Bedford Grow Super Silver Haze Crumble is a unique and powerful buzz, straight into the brain and working its magic from within. It’s 50% Original Haze, or as I prefer, Haze Brothers, a Sativa dating back to the sixties on the west coast. The other half is split between Skunk #1, another legendary line from the seventies, and Northern Lights #5, from the Pacific Northwest, equal in stature to both. All three strains are known for sparking creativity and a burst of energy. In other words, Super Silver Haze is bred to feed your head. 

Bedford Grow’s Super Silver Haze is a weed custom made for people who have a need to be creative. Which is why I started getting high to begin with. 

I picked up a gram from ThriveIL in Harrisburg. The wife had got me George Harrison’s All Things Must Pass 50^th Anniversary box set for Christmas. It’s the surround sound that does it for me. 

I had the house to myself, so there was no restriction on volume. I had some busy work to keep me occupied at my desk, in the center of the speakers. 

Bedford Grow’s Super Silver Haze … a child of some of the choices vintage strains

As all the lines that compose Bedford Grow’s Super Silver Haze are frequent award winners, so it would stand to reason that it would do the same. And it has. Deservedly so. It’s a great flavor, sweet with a hint of Skunk, but not completely overpowering. It’s a slightly fruity taste in the beginning, a little earthiness or spice and then fading back into Skunk. 

As for the buzz, it deserves the awards. It’s unique, energetic and mentally enthralling. My first thought was of Thai, and indeed that’s believed by some to be one of the mysterious strains in Northern Lights #5.

I decided to do the crumble in a dab rig. I opted to cold start it, as I don’t need that big of a hit. I’d rather have several small hits to replace that huge one you get when you hit a dab rig already at temperature. 

I was reeling as I got up from the chair. I quickly righted myself and headed downstairs. Visually things looked like an internet video whose streaming is skipping a bit. Not a lot, barely enough to be noticeable. 

I thought that curious, and after a couple minutes it was regretfully gone. 

So was the hot water. My goal was a quick shower. But the pilot light goes out frequently, and I was off to the basement to start it. Waiting for the  water to heat up … well I can’t tell you what I did. My body was moving and being productive with day to day tasks. That’s the energy part of Bedford Grow’s Super Silver Haze. But I remember finally finding myself in the bathroom with no clear memory of what I was doing before I came in here. 

My mind had been firing on all cylinders, seemingly oblivious to what my body was doing … solving work issues, fleshing out plans in progress, writing this review, all of this in my head. As I couldn’t even remember getting to the bathroom, it’s a safe bet I’ll remember next to none of it. 

I used to avoid showers just after getting high, afraid that somehow the water would wash the buzz away. I’ve since learned it doesn’t. And the hot water on the cold day reminded me of how nice the physical effects of Super Silver Haze are. I didn’t spend any super special time with myself, if that’s what you’re thinking. It was just a shower. At my age, hot water spraying on the back of your neck feels a helluva lot better. 

My mind had been firing on all cylinders, seemingly oblivious to what my body was doing … solving work issues, fleshing out plans in progress, writing this review, all of this in my head. As I couldn’t even remember getting to the bathroom, it’s a safe bet I’ll remember next to none of it. 

The shower did ground me a bit, though I was no less high. I also smelled better. 

If there’s a pitfall of Super Silver Haze it’s that a lack of focus can easily creep in. Particularly if you smoke too much, too fast. 

When I sat down to work, it all flowed nicely. Those of us who do jobs that don’t preclude being high, and we are legion, have learned some weed makes it easier. Some make it a nightmare. 

Super Silver Haze is great if it’s creativity you need, but can fudge a bit on the details. Those will be better left for another day. You can do it of course, but it might take longer than it normally would. 

It’s a great weed for listening to music and All Things Must Pass blew me away. I’ve heard one song on there, Isn’t It A Pity since I was nine years old, the month it came out. I’d never heard in the fade out, the low background singers are singing the na na nas of Hey Jude. 

That moment, and the weed to be honest, stirred an emotion. It was like remembering a joke a dearly departed friend had told you all those years ago, that you finally got.  

The wife was home just after dark, and I’d been cooking along on that one dab since this morning. I had come down a bit, the body buzz taking over. She had a long day at work, I’d stared at a computer screen most of the day, and the Super Silver Haze from Bedford Grow was beckoning me to the nap couch. 

I heeded the call. 

The Particulars:

Bedford Grow Super Silver Haze Crumble
Sativa
Lineage: Skunk, Northern Lights and Haze
THC: 80.44%

Bedford Grow’s Lou’s Legacy is a potent Indica, comprised of two award winning vintage strains. It delivers a high THC buzz which might inspire your mind to dig into something creative, if you can find a way to drag your ass off the couch.

It was supposed to be an easy day at work, mostly doing stuff for myself. Things that a buzz often improves upon. It’s one of the perks of being in a creative field. 

I peeked into my “one buzz left” stash, and saw Lou’s Legacy. Had no memory of smoking the rest of it. I vaguely remembered it was a Chemdog mixed with something, and Chemdog usually leaves me feeling a bit brainless. But it was going to be an easy day, so I dumped it out on the tray. 

A few hits later and I’m reeling. I didn’t go straight from bed to bong, but I still had my jammies on at least. It was cold outside, slightly icy even, and the combination of buzz and comfort locked into place. 

Chemdog, named for the Deadhead who developed it, is notorious for its diesel, chemical taste and the blistering buzz it administers. Though a 50-50 hybrid, mixed with another Sativa it can set the mind to racing at an uncomfortable speed if you’re not careful. 

The “something” mixed with Chemdog, or Chemdawg if you prefer in Bedford Grow’s Lou’s Legacy is Northern Lights Haze. Hailing from the great northwest, it’s also a balanced hybrid, which means the fuel for mind racing is there in its Sativa half. 

A few hits later and I’m reeling. I didn’t go straight from bed to bong, but I still had my jammies on at least. It was cold outside, slightly icy even, and the combination of buzz and comfort locked into place. 

“A few hits later and I’m reeling. I didn’t go straight from bed to bong, but I still had my jammies on at least. It was cold outside, slightly icy even, and the combination of buzz and comfort locked into place. “

My first hint the day was going sour was when my stereo didn’t work. I got an album for Christmas, this was my first chance since I got it where I had the house to myself. And though I could tell it was playing, there was no sound. A light blinked repeatedly, which told me something was wrong. But these new stereos I’ve yet to fully comprehend. It blinking was maddening, a constant taunt that I wasn’t going to get what I wanted. 

I decided a couple more hits might take my mind off of it. It did, for a couple minutes. Then the phone rang. 

It was a client, who informed me they had reversed the order of two jobs which needed done. The one I’d finished they didn’t need till later. The one I was doing tomorrow needed to be up a few hours ago. 

Fuck. 

We all have tasks which we can do stoned out of our gourds, blindfolded, with one hand tied behind our back. This wasn’t that. Something I learned long ago, is that for some things, pot just makes it take longer to get them done. This was one of those things. It also required correlating information from two people who don’t always agree, and calling the client frequently. She was having blood sugar issues because of her diabetes. It was tense, but we got it done. 

And that’s the drawback of smoking a particularly strong, mind fucking weed at work. You can get things done, but it tends to take longer if you intend on doing it right. Unfortunately when you work for yourself, you’re expected to do it right and not paid by the hour.

So rule number one when smoking Lou’s Legacy, is remember you’re likely to be stupidly stoned with a noticeable IQ drop. Compounding that is a bit of physical lethargy, which makes doing much of anything a bit too much effort. You’d really rather sit on the couch and catch an episode of Scooby Doo. 

One distinct positive is with just a couple more hits late in the afternoon, I was sailing into the evening. So once the job was done and I made it to the couch, I instantly dropped into relaxed mode. And rather than feeling like a nap, there was still the cerebral high that made me downright talkative. 

I meant to look up Lou, and learn why this buzz that leaves you feeling zig zagged is his legacy. But by then, I found curing the munchies with a bowl of chili and watching the wife’s Harry Potter films was a better way to shut off the brain and enjoy the smile. 

NOTE: Lou was Lou Dineff, who created Bedford Grow with his sister, Laurel. Lous was lost to cancer just after being awarded his Illinois licenses. R.I.P. Mr Dineff.

The Particulars:

Bedford Grow Lou’s Legacy
Hybrid of Chem 4 X Northern Lights X Haze
THC: 23-24%

What I like about Ghost of the Mujahideen from Bedford Grow is that it makes me feel things more intensely. Being a person typically in a good mood, this is a good thing.

Ghost of the Mujahideen is a cross between Blockhead, Ghost Dawg and Afghani. I’d finally caught on to legal cannabis enough to know that Afghani is one of the strains that suits me best. It’s vintage, exotic and some of the best hash is made from it. 

I’ve been hoarding Ghost of the Mujahideen from Bedford Grow since the week before Christmas. Always in concentrate … wax, crumble and finally live resin. 

A brief history lesson

Indica came from Aghanistan. And it’s likely Sativa did as well. And it’s been cultivated for centuries. Hash was a staple, as it’s easier to transport than flower. The U.S. started leaning on Afghanistan to ban the cannabis trade in the 1950s. The Afghans made a halfhearted attempt, but then came the hippies and Afghanistan became a stop on the Hippie Trail, and demand soared. So we gave Afghanistan about 50 million dollars to wipe out the trade and they did a bloody, but not altogether successful job of it. 

But by then, the seeds had spread throughout the world.

I like it because I like it

Ghost of the Mujahideen isn’t a pure Afghani, but I don’t care. I love the smell, I love the taste, and I love the buzz. It’s flowery, almost spicy. Woodsy.

But it’s nearly tragic, as today I’m finishing the Ghost of the Mujahideen crumble. I’ve held onto it for weeks now, and it’s time to let it go. 

Which leaves a bit of the live resin version. If you want to know if the live resin is worth the extra five bucks, then yeah, sure it is. There’s more flavor, more scent and for me, more of a buzz. Because Ghost of the Mujahideen from Bedford Grow is a full body buzz, and more important, it fills your head. 

You feel stoned, but not incapacitated. Those reviews where the people melt into the couch … that’s not my experience. I want to be moving, just not moving too fast. I want something to challenge my brain, because stimulation feels great. 

When I hear the words Ghost of the Mujahideen, it conjures up to me images of the middle east, the marketplaces, the casbah, the bazaar. 

We don’t have a bazaar, a marketplace filled with stalls where people hawk their wares, including fresh buds. 

Instead, we have Walmart. 

Approaching Mecca

You have to prepare yourself for Walmart, and Ghost of the Mujahideen from Bedford Grow does that. I call Rango, he answers. 

“What are you doing?”
“I’m at work.”
“I need a ride to Walmart.”
“Do I have to stick around?”
“No.”
“Uh. OK” he says and hangs up. 

He doesn’t even ask why any more. He just figures if I call it’s important. This is important, as I’m in the process of finishing the Ghost of the Mujahideen crumble. I have a hit mixed with an Orange Afghani flower. I had grown to love the taste, and that’s a distinct benefit of crumble. It crumbles well over buds. 

Then I finish the rest in a dab rig, without coughing even. It’s one thing I like about vintage strains – they hit hard enough you don’t feel the need to hit whatever you’re smoking all that hard. 

I walk out the front door as Rango is pulling up. He drives slower than any human I know, so I have plenty of time to cross the lawn and I’m waiting by the street as he creeps to a stop. I get in. 

“It’s almost dark,” he says. I lower my sunglasses, he looks at my eyes, winces and nods. 

It’s a five minute drive. He asks if I need a ride home. I tell him no, the wife is taking me home when she gets off work. That gives me an hour. I only have enough shopping for about fifteen minutes. He almost tags along, just to see how uncomfortable I get. Instead he drops me off at the door. 

Welcome Walmart Shoppers

I step through the outer doors. The grizzled older man counting heads looks me in the eye, then clicks his machine. One more. 

It’s weird with these masks, only seeing the eyes. You can see so much more that way. Then you realize they can see so much more in yours and you panic. The bastard knows I’m high. 

But it doesn’t matter. It’s legal now to go to Walmart with a hellacious buzz born in the mountains of Afghanistan. And besides, I’m wearing sunglasses, so he can’t see my eyes. 

So how did the bastard know?

I grab a cart and pull. Three carts come rolling out, so firmly slammed into each other that pulling them apart will be a two person job. Or a crowbar. I briefly consider going to hardware and grabbing one. I grab a cart from the next row instead, scan it quickly for baby puke, then pull out into traffic. 

Stoned in the produce section

The first thing you have to do in a small town is scan the faces. Is there anyone here I want to avoid? Anyone I need to avoid all costs? It looks clear so I step across the boundary and veer towards the greens. 

Every trip to Walmart starts in the produce section. I’m fairly safe here, as most of the people I know refuse to eat leaves. I scan the product. No kale, which is typical. Three bell peppers wrapped together. Do I go for two yellows and a red? Or two reds and an orange. I go for the latter, strictly on color and look for the broccoli. Score. 

“It’s weird with masks, only seeing the eyes. You can see so much more that way. Then you realize they can see so much more in yours and you panic. The bastard knows I’m high.”

Our lettuce is up in the garden, so I can pass on the Romaine, and there are the carrots. Baby carrots are the route to go, though I prefer the rustic experience of a full carrot. It makes the house feel more like home. 

Fuck I’m high. 

Celery … she likes a particular brand, they’re out. I substitute and pray once chopped up, she won’t notice the difference. Then it’s the bananas. I don’t eat bananas, but she does. I have to remember the song to remember how to choose ripe ones …

I’m Chiquita banana and I’ve come to say
Bananas have to ripen in a certain way
When they are fleck’d with brown and have a golden hue
Bananas taste the best and are best for you

There’s a dance that goes with it of course. I’m high, but not so high that I’m going to do it in Walmart. I settle for a few steps and keep my hands white knuckle tight on the shopping cart. 

Stoned Walmart Protocol

People say you shouldn’t go to the grocery store stoned, but that’s not true. A grocery store is a great place to be stoned, but you want to catch your buzz and proceed directly to the store, before the munchies have a chance to set in. 

I blew it a few weeks ago when we combined a trip to the Harrisburg Walmart and a run to ThriveIL Dispensary. I timed it so I was blowing out the last hit as we walked out the door of the house. She was driving obviously.

It’s a half hour or so to Harrisburg, and again that long again standing in line at Thrive and collecting my order. Then the drive to Walmart, parking, fetch a cart … before we got out of there, the munchies were starting. You’ve got the ride home to develop a full blown hunger. So you start planning ahead. Bizarre plans.

I brought home a duck. 

But today that’s not an issue. It’s a five minute drive to our local and I ate before I imbibed. That’s particularly good as all the things you need are fresh in your mind from cooking. 

Stoned Walmart Etiquette

When stoned, avoid eye contact. This is a no brainer for most of us who have done this for decades. But sometimes you forget. 

When you see a little old lady trying to reach something, get it for her. But make sure they know what you’re doing before you reach over their heads. If it’s an old man ask first. Sometimes they can get fierce, and you don’t want to be caned in Walmart by the elderly when stoned. 

Watch your gaze. I’m a reader. When I see words, I read them. When they’re on a shirt, I read them, and due to the proximity of the writing to women’s breasts, it’s led to some awkward moments. I forget this as I’m following a woman with more than ample buttocks, with writing across them. I’m starting to giggle when I notice certain letters disappear and reappear as she walks, when her husband turns around and catches me staring at her ass. I cut down the bread aisle and into clothing. 

I don’t need clothes, but I find myself fascinated by the fashion pants in women’s clothes. Essentially the bell bottomed tights. I haven’t had bell bottoms in years, and the wife bought me a pair of these. A vibrant floral print, because she thought it would look cool under black lights. It does. I now have two pairs. 

This time they’re black, with bizarre astrological signs in gold. The Jimmy Page Collection from Walmart. I can’t resist. The stoned mind has full control now. 

Back to the grocery

The grocery section is always the most dangerous. It’s where you run into people. Across the way is a red haired fellow that looks familiar. He’s staring. I’m thinking it’s a kid I went to school with, till I realize at our age he’d no longer have red hair, but grey. Fuck! He’s coming towards me …

Turns out it’s a guy who tried to buy my car last week. A quick encounter, and once finished I make the turn into the dairy aisle where I can whisk away to safety, my grocery list completed. 

“She tells me her husband died last year. I try to say something sympathetic, it comes out stoned. I’m sure she catches on. So I ask if she’s going to start dating.”

I nearly crash my cart into a friend of my dear departed mother. This lady must be in her eighties now, but she’s looking fit and her mind is as sharp as ever. She asks if I’m me. I assure her I am. We run into each other on occasion and she usually chastises me. But the last time I encountered her with a shopping cart full of healthy items, we swapped philosophies of healthy eating. Hers oddly matched mine, trying to eat the quality of food our ancestors ate, and with something like the same simplicity. 

I ask how she’s been. She tells me her husband died last year. I try to say something sympathetic, it comes out stoned. I’m sure she catches on. So I ask if she’s going to start dating. She asks if I’m joking. I assure her I am, then I flee before she gets the idea I’m hitting on her. 

Heading for fresh air in Lawn and Garden

I see Nick coming towards me. Everybody knows Nick. He’s greeting as he walks, almost like the Queen of England in a parade. He’s got a greeting for everyone, calls them by name. It’s not an act, he loves people. He lives off their energy. I catch my greeting like a blown kiss and wave him off. It’s a skill he has, making it seem like all is right with the world.

The wife works in the pharmacy. She has a look of panic when I pass, overworked and over stressed from being an essential employee during a pandemic. She was never a fan of weed. But she does like her Jagermeister. And since joining the pharmacy, it’s become a necessary tool for healing. 

The garden section is always a nice reprieve. Everyone drops their masks. We’re competing out here. We want to see the one plant everyone misses. I seldom do at Walmart, but I stroll the aisles, breathing fresh air and girding my loins for the dash to the checkout line. 

Where concentrates can be a burden

While in the garden center, I noticed I was alone. I could, and often have, easily snuck a hit. Easy enough with a pinch hitter and flower. But it’s a bit different with concentrates. 

Evolve makes a good pen for smoking concentrates. Actually they make a few, and they come in various sizes. So it’s easy to be inconspicuous. But I’ve never been a fan of the taste. It’s too clinical. And too harsh. The last thing you want to do at Walmart is launch into a coughing fit, reeking of afghani hash. 

Opting for self checkout and still pissed about it

I stop in the bird food section, as the wife’s put in a request. Otherwise, it’s a straight shot to the checkout lanes, and she’s on her way to clock out. But I have to wait till she gets to the front of the store with the employee discount card. 

I go for self check. It irks me as even as they’re pushing their employees to do more in less time and for the same amount of money, they’re pushing me as a customer to do more and not save anything in the process. 

But I like the way I bag better so I do it anyway. And things are going swimmingly. The wife joins me, employee discount card in hand. She lends a hand with the produce. She’s experienced at this, but sometimes she gets going too fast and we get the flashing light, and wait for attendant to notice. 

She shows up, smirks at me, I point to the wife, I didn’t do it. I memorize her Employee ID code and plan future revenge. I see the total and wonder if I can write off the cost of this trip as a business expense. She’s pushing me forward with the cart so I oblige and head towards the door. 

I breathe a sigh of relief. Ghost of the Mujahideen makes for a more interesting Walmart experience. Certainly more intense. An hour’s worth was enough to wear the sharp edges off the buzz, and make me think a bit of a nap might be coming my way. 

I look to the wife as we’re unloading the bags. I point out since she’s outside, she can take off her mask, having already shed mine. She points out since it’s night now, I can take off my sunglasses.