I thought I’d seen the pinnacle of pot-purchasing convenience as a teenager.
Back in those days, one of the people whom I would frequent for weed-buying purposes had set up an ingenious method of peddling his wares out of his parents’ basement. This fella, who I’m going to refer to as This Guy going forward (not to be confused with The Guy or That Guy), had installed a small doorbell on the outside of his basement window. But rather than ringing a bell when pushed, the button was hooked up to a lamp, so whenever someone would come to pick up a bag, they’d simply hit the button a couple of times, whereupon a light would begin flashing in This Guy’s room, alerting him to the presence of a customer. This Guy would then open up his window, greet whomever was standing outside and supply them with whatever they came to buy.
It was genius, really. This Guy’s parents were none the wiser, because they wouldn’t even notice people coming over and sneaking into their side yard, nor would they hear anything when people did show up. It also 86ed the tedious ritual of having to sit in your dealer’s