Newman used to chief heavily, but gave it up three years ago after a bad trip. A shake of his head was all he allowed himself, but I watched his eyes age a decade as he realized he’d witnessed an era come and go. Reluctantly, I put Old Yeller down and told him that all our old pickup spots in Casa de Oro had vanished against all odds, the house of gold had tarnished. He still remained in happy antiquity, and I realized I would have to break his heart. Then Newman’s force of habit asserted itself, and his RAV4 swung onto the State Route 125 South connection. We crept along the I-8 East in a herd of traffic slowed by some dullard’s inability to drive with wet wheels. Sensing I was too high to drive, I placed a call to my good friend and business confidant Newman, requesting that he be my chauffeur for the afternoon.Ī light sprinkle peppered Newman’s windshield every few seconds, lingering for a moment before a dying wiper blade screeched its way across the glass and flung the drops down to the cement-scarred floor of Mission Valley. What’s the market appeal? I needed answers like I needed more smoke, and found myself bored with playing the role of “Guy who mooches off of his girlfriend’s homegrown stash.” Evaluating the state of contemporary dispos would serve a dual purpose. It’s not a bad part of town, but seemed to me a strange patchwork quilt of Lakeside-style white trash and Downtown suits. I took another toke and asked myself: why so many stores? At first puff, La Mesa seemed an odd location for such a high concentration. I chuckled excitedly, rocking back and forth in delight over the realization that I’d be able to re-up on the clock - so much so that the doobie pressed between my fingers released an ember that nearly burnt a hole in my shorts. He imagined a simple research assignment into this apparently atypical accumulation: I was to talk to owners, employees, customers, even local politicians. The Editor, packed bowl surely in hand, sent word that he wanted me to look into the matter. Stunningly, many of these places even take card. The days of Spring Valley pop-up stores selling $5 grams and knockoff Chinese concentrate to high schoolers have been replaced by a reality where refined, adult shoppers are met with upscale LED signage, licensed lanyard-wearing consultants, brand diversity, and even a bill of sale. Greenthumb’s, EMBR, The Grove, Hotbox, Jungle Boys, Lit, The Reserve, Urbn Leaf (two locations), and Wellgreens. A quick run down the alphabet shows that this city of 60,000 is host to at least a dozen: BackpackBoyz, Cookies, Dr. The city of La Mesa - a modest county jurisdiction once known for its small businesses, community fairs, and historical atmosphere - is of late becoming known for its wide array of weed dispensaries. In the Middle East of San Diego County, there lies a kind of marijuana Mecca, a place to which pot pilgrims may peregrinate on a high hajj in their quest to elevate themselves - not through spiritual means, but rather, smokable.
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