Cannabis Chronicle 13: Dayclub Dank

I know that I'm supposed to wait a little longer, but 20 mg doesn't seem like that much and I'm in Vegas. Let's rage, bitch.

am always hesitant to try anything when it is first released. Every time Apple debuts a new phone that I’m sure I will need in order to be an elite member of iPhone society, there are kinks and shit that end up having to be changed with an update or a Genius Bar hipster. So I wait it out. I read reviews, and give people time to complain about defects before making my purchase. One, because I am cheap and this gives me more time to save my shekels, and two, because good things come to those that wait. At least that’s what one of those Bible dudes said.


Anyway, I apply this same philosophy when traveling to states or countries that have recently legalized cannabis. Legalization is never perfect, and those first few weeks are always a kerfuffle.


A good friend of mine recently traveled to Vegas and confirmed my theory. Overpriced cannabis and club security being extremely petty are the occurrences I expected this early in the game. Wait! Cannabis legalization, with no safe spaces to consume? How absurd! I’ve never heard of such.




Despite the Man’s attempt to foil her good time they found a dispensary and copped some edibles. And where there are edibles, there is usually a chronicle……………




We are on our way to a pool party at Marquee, so I decide to eat the cookie edible that I bought from the dispensary earlier. It was sliced into multiple portions – each piece was 10mg. I’ve had a few edibles before, but I don’t consume on the regular so I decided I should take it slow. Oh yeah, and its 100 degrees outside. Pool party or not, hydration is always a major key in Vegas.


I eat one slice and only wait about five minutes before I scarf down another piece. I know that I’m supposed to wait a little longer, but 20 mg doesn’t seem like that much and I’m in Vegas. Let’s rage, bitch.


We get to the party and I feel good. I feel a bit like that tall, inflatable creature in front of the car dealership that flaps (or twerks?) in the wind. All of the fluttery feels. Perhaps a lil‘ too fluttery. I lay out on a pool chaise and fall asleep. A deep sleep too – one of those slumbers when you wake up and low-key are confused about where you are and whether it’s been eight minutes or eight hours. My homegirls are asleep too. Security isn’t too fond of us turning the party into a sleepover and tell us to take our drowsy-asses to bed.


As we head back to the room, my flutters are transforming into nausea. I know wiggin’ out will not help me so I’m not going to tell my comrades. I just need to get to the room and get my shit together and I’ll be straight. I didn’t eat much before we went out so I’m thinking maybe I’m not high. Maybe I just need food. Or water? Or an IV? I don’t know fam, but a bitch is feeling fainter with every step that I take.


Our room is on the 50th floor because I live for a view. But now as the elevator is taking what feels like eons to get to our floor I am cursing my affinity for ‘gram-worthy sky views. My girls are laughing and chatting about the day’s events. Someone asks me a question and I don’t even say shit back. I’m focused, man. We are almost there. Just a few more steps and I can pass the fuck out in peace.


We reach our floor and I could shed a thug tear. My sister realizes that I am being unusually quiet.


“Are you okay?!” she asks me.


I nod my head yes and then projectile vomit all over the hallway. Twenty feet away from our fucking room, bruh.


“Yeah, you’re great!” she replies sarcastically.



Check out a snippet of me giving my girl a scolding for not taking my advice on edible etiquette.





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Always enjoy responsibily.