"Life is one big road with lots of signs"
-Bob Marley
If you’re just joining, I left San Francisco for six months during the pandemic to work remotely from states with fewer Covid restrictions.
As a brand new user of legal cannabis, I’d completely forgotten to consider all of the differing laws and restrictions in the places I'd be visiting. It was a trip, to say the least.
Florida was my first stop on the Pandemic Tour of the United States, where I discovered that pot is only available for medical use. A relative of mine with a medical card gifted me with a small amount of cannabis that I took on my travels and I discreetly consumed throughout Florida, Georgia, and South Carolina. It is illegal there, and I felt like a criminal.
When I arrived in New Orleans, however, I was surprised to find cannabis being sold from what appeared to be ice cream trucks– brightly colored vans with pot leaves and pink lollipops plastered all over them, which you’d flag down to make a purchase. Turns out that mobile dispensaries are loosely permitted in New Orleans, but not brick-and-mortar ones.
In Washington DC, there were physical dispensaries. But then it got weird. While it’s lawful to possess and use cannabis, buying or selling it is very much illegal. In a bizarre loophole, dispensaries are allowed to give away cannabis as a "free gift" when purchasing another item. For example, if you bought a disposable lighter for $50, you could choose a free gift from one group of cannabis products, and if you spent $75 for the same exact lighter, your free gift options improved. I later learned that a similar workaround was used in the Prohibition Era with alcohol. A merchant would sell tickets to an animal attraction, such as to see a blind pig, and then offer "free" refreshments inside. Oh. Are we playing that game again, America? Yes? OK. I see that we are. #noted
Things got even stranger in the US Virgin Islands, where cannabis has been decriminalized and made available on the grey market, provided you know exactly where to look. My Airbnb neighbor Carl showed me the ropes and took me to an ordinary-looking gift shop. We walked past all the souvenirs, dreamcatchers, and jewelry to the back counter where Carl casually asked for weed. A ziplock bag filled with pre-rolled joints appeared. It was bootleg style, without any labeling, testing, or proper packaging, and I felt like I’d just traveled through time to a 1920’s speakeasy!
At one point in my travels, I encountered a new challenge. For what I could only imagine was the first time in my life, I had two different kinds of cannabis at the same time— one from New Orleans and one from Washington DC. I had to throw out all of the packaging because I was traveling to another state, and that posed a new problem, because I wasn't going to be able to tell them apart. I had plain white Zig Zag papers and rolled everything into joints, but now the two piles of joints looked entirely identical even though they absolutely weren't– one put me to sleep, and the other was energizing, and I definitely needed to know the difference!
Oddly, I had some blue painter's tape in my suitcase from a hurricane project back in Florida, and came up with a quick way to visibly distinguish the two different piles of joints. I cut the blue painter’s tape into small strips, wrapped it around the filter tip, and added blue pinstripes to half of my stash to visually differentiate one strain from the other. The problem was solved, I knew which one would put me to sleep, plus those stripes looked pretty stylish if I do say so myself.
Since it was Covid, I wasn’t passing or sharing joints with others, so I always bought extra cannabis and offered each person/couple their very own mini-joint to enjoy without the risk of sharing germs. Not only did that really help put people at ease during a pandemic, but it allowed everyone to smoke at their own pace and preferred dosage without having to worry that they might get Covid.
But then I noticed something interesting each time I offered up a joint from my stash. Everybody chose the pinstriped one– 100% of the time, regardless of what I said was inside… and I mean Everybody. Always. Chose. The. Stripes. Clearly there was something delightful about those pinstripes that stylishly elevated the smoking experience, and I couldn't not notice.
For some reason, the stripes I'd been crafting felt oddly familiar to me, and I couldn't pinpoint why. The previous year at Google, I'd thrown a welcome reception in Napa, and I'd come up with the theme "Croquet & Cocktails", so I decided that the sporty pinstriped joints looked like tiny croquet mallets when their stripes were all lined up. I remember thinking what a fun word “mallet” would be to replace the term “joint”, which suddenly felt outdated and reminded me of something an old, mustached uncle would say. Phrases like “Let’s go hit some mallets” soon emerged within my circle of friends, and “Mallets” became our slang word for cannabis cigarettes.
By the time I’d reached the U.S. Virgin Islands in my travels, it had already been several months since resigning from Google, and the accumulated stress from the last six years of corporate life had begun to melt away. It was glorious.
As a woman traveling solo, having my own cannabis felt empowering, and always left me in control of my own adventure. I knew exactly which effects to anticipate since the cannabis was mine, and I got to choose who I wanted to hang out with, never needing to stay in any situation that I didn’t enjoy. Sorry, Carl.
My time in St. John was transformational. I went scuba diving in the mornings, then relaxed on the beach smoking a mallet and listening to reggae on my headphones while soaking up the sun. Being outdoors, surrounded by nature while smoking cannabis was all new to me, because all of my previous experiences had been wrapped up in shame and guilt, so it felt amazing to lean in to only the good sensations. My heart opened in ways I hadn’t expected, I felt grounded, and was radiating good vibes only. My nervous system had been reset, and was at peace for the first time in years. And once I found my way to that place, my spirit begin to awaken.
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