My first time going to the medical marijuana dispensary was even more daunting than going to the doctor to get certified for my medical marijuana ID card.
Unlike most of the people I grew up with in the 1960s, I had never tried marijuana. My brothers and sisters were using marijuana, and so were most of my friends, but I couldn’t handle the smell of the stuff. I always think that if the smell of marijuana upset my stomach, what would the taste of it do? These feelings were still with me when I thought about going into the marijuana dispensary and I smelled it even before I got into the dispensary itself. I stood between the doors that led from the small office that verified my medical marijuana ID card, and being left into the dispensary itself. I waffled back and forth about wanting to enter the dispensary. My stomach was already churning from the smell of marijuana, and I didn’t want to vomit on the floor. The young lady at the desk told me I either needed to leave or enter the dispensary, because there were five people waiting outside for their turn to come in. I swallowed hard to calm my stomach and took a few deep breaths, which wasn’t a good idea. 30 seconds later, I was walking into the marijuana dispensary and talking to the budtender. He answered all the questions I had, which kept my mind off my nausea. I walked out with the products the pharmacist suggested, and a feeling of relief that I had not vomited on their shiny floors.