There's the nervousness. The anticipation. Will it be good? Will it be merely satisfactory? Will it leave me wanting more? Will it develop into a lasting relationship?
Finding a new dispensary is a little bit like going on a blind date.
And I'd say I went on an extremely successful one today.
Took the Mini out for a spin on this lovely Sunday morning. I drove in a bit of a haze, but the weather was good, and it was good to get out of the house. Sure, I made a few wrong turns when I wasn't paying attention to the directions, but hey, this was the scenic route, and the business districts that I aimlessly drove around in were deserted on this Sunday.
As I turned onto a side street while attempting to remember the next two turns, I spied Tuesday Morning. B had told me about this place. Overstock inventory from department stores, it was a pack rat's paradise. I made a sharp turn into the driveway.
I would just go check it out, I told myself. I just had to stop and check out the place that B had been recommending for years. Just a peek.
I walked in and noticed first and foremost that the place was a mess. I mean I've been to outlet and discount retailers before, but this was a whole new level of randomness. All this in a business park off furniture row. The second thing was the smell. And third were...the old people. Senior citizens.
Oh dear. I gingerly walked in without even bothering to pick up a basket or a cart, I was so unimpressed.
Then, I spied the kitchenware section. And minutes later, my arms were full of random items. I balanced them on top of a cooling rack. Sets of purple utensils. Cupcake wrappers. An adorable pink apron with ruffles around the edges. I saw designer glassware, at a fraction of the cost. I applauded myself for not getting the fondue set, which was sounding so amazing at that very moment. Even though I'd binged on an omelette followed by half a box of mint Andes before I left.
Nearly an hour later (I am such the thorough shopper), I was packing my purchases into the Mini and heading on my way again. I watched the blue dot on my iPhone approach...a mobile home community. Orange County has mobile home parks? Really? I made my way through the community slowly, my eyes darting back and forth between the street and my iPhone's blue dot. Why didn't I use my Garmin, which speaks directions in that comforting female robot voice? I'm not sure.
I was getting a bad feeling about this. It didn't help that I now had no idea where I was, and well...mobile homes look...the same. The mini-streets between them aren't exactly labeled, either. When the blue dot reached its destination, I found myself next to a wall. On the other side of the wall was what looked to be a business park. And I was on this side. In the wrong park.
It took me even longer to get out of the mobile home park as it did to navigate toward the green dot. I had no idea where I was. I did circles. Everything looked the same. It was dizzying. The only thing standing between me and my highly anticipated blind date were these rows and rows of mobile homes that all looked the same.
After finally making my way out of the mobile home park, I made my way into a business park. A series of nondescript buildings. Another maze. I finally arrived and walked up to the black door. The waiting room was respectable: nice chairs, modern accents; it looked more like a doctor's office than a dispensary waiting room. The inside room was similarly decorated. The only propaganda displayed were bright, expensive looking signs with clean, modern designs. Classy stoner paraphernalia. I was impressed.
Even more so when the cute and blatantly high guy behind the counter put on a pair of rubber gloves and held the product out for me to inspect under a lit magnifying lens as he excitedly discussed the effects of each selection. He was clearly a true connoisseur. He lit up as he told me about the products. He lovingly handled the flowers. His obvious passion for his work made me giddy. I love meeting passionate people.
I left the dispensary with some new medication, a piece of banana bread, a bit of a crush, and high hopes for a lovely afternoon that would inspire many return visits. A one hour planned outing had turned into more like three hours, but hey, that's what lazy Sunday afternoons are for, right?
And then I enjoyed the Ice Cream.
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