THE TOASTED OF THE TOWN.

Since it is now legal to buy marijuana for recreational use in Colorado, the following scene is, no doubt, being repeated all over the state.

A woman walks into “Bong For Glory,” a legal marijuana dispensary.

Good morning, madam.

         

Good morning, sir. I’d like an ounce of your best “shit,” please.

I just got some “Maui Zowie” in this morning and I think you’ll find it particularly pungent.

He lets her smell it.

         

Mmmm. How many . . . “doobies” to the ounce?

         

Depends how you roll them.

         

I’ve never done that. I don’t suppose you could do that for me?

         

No, but you could use a pipe.

         

Far too masculine.

         

How about a “bong?”

         

Excuse me?

         

A water pipe.

         

Like a hookah?

         

No, madam, like this.

He takes out an object that looks like plumbing on, well, drugs.

It cools the smoke before you breathe it in and avoids the Mammy Yoakem effect of a pipe.

Very civilized. Do I have to wear a Grateful Dead shirt while using it?

No, but it helps.

No, thanks. I’ll take the, uhh, “bong” and the . . .

“Maui Zowie.”

The clerk rings it up.

         

That will be eight hundred and thirty two dollars.

         

Very expensive. I was led to believe it was a nickel a bag.

         

Not literally, madam. Never literally.

         

Very well.

She charges it.

Here is your receipt, your bong and your “stash.” Have a mellow afternoon.