My husband worked 6 and 7 days a week so that he could save up enough money to take me on a vacation. We haven’t been on one since we were dating more than 4 years ago. I chose to go to Colorado because I had some kind of fantasy in my head that they had a magic elixir for my problems. In fact, I had been nagging him that we needed to move there. Let’s just say, I’m over it!
So we stopped in a small town along the way and went to our first dispensary in Ft Morgan. He was like a kid in a candy store! “Come on! Hurry up! Get out of the car! Take my picture!!” He stood next to the door and posed proudly. He was smiling so big he had dimples! He didn’t even smile like that when I was coming down the isle! We walk in the first set of doors and the smell of pot is overwhelming. I never liked that smell. There was a girl behind the counter with bullet proof windows who asked us to slide our ID’s through the slot. She buzzed us in and we went around to the counter she was at next to a big, tough looking security guard with a gun in his belt. It was a waiting room that had some t-shirts and other gift items. She asked for our first names, put them in the computer and told us someone would be in to get us.
A kid came out looking like a blond version of Pete Davidson from SNL. He escorted us in. Everything was behind the glass counters – it looked like a jewelry store, except they were filled with pot in glass jars, candy bars, baked goods. There were pipes and bongs along the walls and shelves behind him. “Is this your first time? Do you guys know what you are looking for?” My husband starts with, “You got any skunk weed?” Pete (we’ll call him Pete) says, “no man, lots of people have been asking for that. Where are you going? You might find some in Denver.” My husband replies, “We are going to Denver. I haven’t had a good skunk in like 25 years.” My guess was, that was exactly how old Pete was.
My husband asks him about edibles and he goes over the long list of choices. I butt in, “I’m looking for high CBD, low THC.” He laughs because I know exactly what I want. I had done a lot of research. He pulls out a container of gummy pucks. My husband also buys some pucks, but the high THC kind. He also picks out two different kinds of weed and a small one hitter. and then tells the guy to throw in a bottle of the juice. I am not really experienced with all of this, but it all seemed like A LOT. I think our bill was $86. That seemed pretty cheap.
We drove another 2 hours into downtown Denver. By the time we got there, I had a raging headache and after eating 2 meals out, I could feel my gallbladder rebelling. My husband was supposed to be navigating and I had texted him all the screen shots of the maps for where we were staying, where we were going, etc. He kept directing me back to the place we were going on Saturday. I kept saying that wasn’t right. We argued. Finally, I pulled over and looked at the map. It was in the direction I kept telling him it was. We got to our hotel and my husband realized he was looking at the wrong map. We checked in and went to our room. It was non-smoking, but it was a motel so our door opened to a courtyard where there was a chair outside to smoke in. I was complaining of my headache and my husband suggested I eat one of the gummies I bought. Then we went back to the check in area to grab a bunch of brochures for area attractions. The nearest restaurant was a mile walk. We decided to order Domino’s. I don’t understand why people like that crap!
It was an hour before the gummy kicked in. My husband asked how I was feeling and I said the pain had finally subsided. He asked what I thought and I told him my pain pills work way faster and better. I had a mellow relaxed feeling, but at least I can drive on Tramadol. Perhaps this magic elixir wasn’t really what I was looking for.
There was an hour time change between home and Denver and I woke up at 1 a.m. Very disappointing. I thought these gummies were supposed to cure insomnia. I decided to eat another and go back to bed. The next 2 hours were filled with vivid, crazy dreams. I kept dreaming that my daughter was there with us and she was wearing something sexy to the Zombie Zone and these 3 guys were hanging around our motel door waiting for her and I kept yelling at them, “That’s MY DAUGHTER!!” She is beautiful so I suppose I was trying to protect her from these leering men.
I got up at 3 and decided to stop fighting it. I went outside to smoke and went into the main office for coffee. I had already asked ahead of time if they were open all night and had coffee because of my insomnia. As I was walking over, I saw the most beautiful skyline! I suppose insomnia pays off sometimes. The smell of pot was thick in the air and I was looking around for clouds of smoke – there were none. I sat outside my hotel room watching people come and go. I had no idea how many people check in at 3 and 4 in the morning. There were homeless people with their backpacks of stuff walking down the street. I’m used to being the only one up.
My husband got up around 6:30. I decided to start getting ready. He kept asking why I was getting ready so early and I said I wasn’t sure how long it would take to apply my make up and then his. We went to breakfast with me all decked out in my zombie costume. I thought I did a pretty good job. Some man was making casual conversation with me about the food as I stood there with part of my cheek missing showing my teeth. After breakfast we went back to the room and my husband put on his raggedy clothes. The sad thing is, that was his favorite sweatshirt and work jeans. He dresses all holey and torn up on a daily basis. He fussed and didn’t want much make up or wounds. We went back to the office and had them call a cab. It was only 9 by then, but we had no idea how long it would take to get a cab in a big city. At home you could wait for up to an hour. Ours was there in 15 minutes! We got to the mall and of course, it was not even open yet.
We walked around looking at what stores they had. The Pavilions is a huge mall that takes up 2 square blocks and is 3 stories high. We went to Starbucks for a coffee. It almost feels like you are in the middle of an exercise class with all the women in yoga pants and work out clothes. So do they jog down for a coffee? Counter productive I would say! Or are they telling their spouses they are going to exercise when they are really going out for a coffee? It all seemed ridiculous to me. As we walked around 2 homeless guys headed towards us. One of them outstretched his arms like he was going to hug me as he approached. My husband moved out of the way. He puts his hands on my shoulders and says in a concerned voice, “what happened to you?” I replied, “He got me!” and pointed to my husband. He laughed and told me I had a great costume. Good thing he wasn’t coming to attack because my husband had moved quite a distance away. My hero *sarcasm*
The stores opened at 10 and we went to Claire’s. I was wearing my contacts for the first time in a long time and had no sunglasses. The sun is evil in Colorado. By then I needed to pee. We go to their “public” bathroom on the second floor, only to find that they are locked with a code! There is a note, you must purchase something from one of the stores and they will give you the code. Wow. So we go to Bath and Body cause I wanted some bubble bath anyway. I asked for the bathroom code and she wrote it on the receipt. She commented that it was to keep the homeless out because they make the customers uncomfortable. WOW again! “Welcome to Denver! Peace, Love and Happiness – as long as you are not homeless.” I am becoming unimpressed with this town! With legalized pot, they have the money to help people.
Next we go to a souvenir shop. They had a sign on the door – NO ZOMBIES! Is that for real? We walk through the shop. There are signs every where – YOU BREAK IT, YOU BUY IT. More welcoming… I picked up a shot glass for my collection. We went to pay. The lady at the counter was making an even bigger NO ZOMBIES sign. She was obviously proud of her work. I said, “Sorry we broke your zombie rule.” She said no, it was ok. On the way out I saw they had rocks and geodes and stuff. Dang it! I was looking for those, but I don’t want to carry a bunch of rocks around all day! Little did I know we wouldn’t be there all day.
We walked around as my husband mapped out all the dispensaries and he decided to go in as soon as they opened. We bought a couple candy bars, more juice and some salve – I’m still looking for my magic elixir. We got a cute little gift bag with pictures of bongs and weed all over. As we walked out, I raised the bag and said, “Back home they call this a ‘felony'” We looked at each other and laughed. Since public consumption is still illegal, we went back to the coded bathrooms. I put the cookies and cream candy bar in my purse and my husband took the sack. I went into the stall and broke off a piece, but 2 chunks came off. Well, I didn’t want a poor little chunk broken off by itself so I ate both. I mean, I ate 2 pucks the night before and it didn’t really do anything anyway. I just forgot this wasn’t the high CBD, low THC version. And that was the beginning of the end.
We met back up and went down to the courtyard. More people were coming and my husband choked when I told him I had eaten 2 pieces. He knew where this was going. My daughter texted that she wanted me to call. The cat wasn’t doing well with his allergies. She asked me a bunch of questions. “Have you seen any dispensaries?” Duh! We have toured every one we come across! She kept talking and talking. I could tell my husband wanted me to get off the phone. I swear she was just trying to gauge if I was high or not. She is such a totalitarian!
I got off the phone and the candy was kicking in. My husband was hungry, but every restaurant we looked at was too eclectic for him. I told him we could go to the Hard Rock Cafe. Just give him a regular old burger! By then I was completely stoned. I mean, I was playing the zombie part really well! He put out his elbow and told me to let him lead. We get to the restaurant and I could not focus on the menu at all. I ordered a burger and the waiter asks, “would you like that cooked…?” I’m like, yeah! My husband responds, “medium.” OH! Not would you like a raw burger, but “how would you like that cooked?”! Yep, I was HIGH!
As we sat there I was looking around. My own thoughts were interrupting my thoughts. The music was loud. The waiter kept coming back and talking to us. Why?? Go away! I can’t focus on words right now! He was jabbering on and on. Why is this same song still on? Why is this guy still talking?! I heard him say there was supposed to be 100,000 people there for the Zombie Zone. Is this guy joking?? It is all like kiddie stuff. Cheesey photo op places, a crappy little stage. I couldn’t even eat half the burger. I just wanted to get out of there, away from this chattering waiter! What the hell?!?
We head out of the restaurant and my husband suggests we leave. We go out to the front and I get the giggles. I’m laughing and my husband is laughing at me laughing. All of a sudden, I feel something. Oh lord, I hope I just peed my pants!! I get all paranoid. I have to go back to the bathroom!! Get in there, nope, I got my period. There are no sanitary dispensers in the bathroom. Homeless women have the hardest time getting those. HELLO! YOU DON’T EVEN ALLOW THE HOMELESS IN THE BATHROOM!!! I’m wearing a mini skirt, with crotchless fishnets and bikini bottoms. I can’t stuff toilet paper in my pants!!
I get out of the bathroom and can’t decide what to do! I wanted to stay! I wanted to see if things picked up. But, I didn’t think people would appreciate real blood at this thing. We are standing out at the railing of the second floor looking out to the courtyard. I’m debating on saying anything to my husband. I didn’t want to ruin it. He looks out and referring to the waiter’s comment he says, “Wow. There are tens of people here.” I start laughing (and leaking) again. DAMN IT! STOP MAKING ME LAUGH! He looks down and starts laughing again. “You are really white knuckling it.” I look down, I didn’t even realize I was grasping the railing for dear life. There were tons of security guards all around all of a sudden. I was getting real paranoid! I looked at him and whispered, “I got my period. There is nothing in the bathroom!” He springs into action. There’s a 7-11 around the corner we saw. We go in there and he leads me straight to the feminine products. Oh man, this is embarrassing. I get some pads and he grabs some gum. The only place to pay is right in the middle of their “restaurant.” I didn’t even want to check out. I’m mad at myself. What am I, like 12?? I can’t handle getting my period?!?
I was so messed up I just wanted to sit down. But I didn’t want to leave a blood spot behind. UGH! I put on a pad in the locked bathroom, giving the code to anyone and everyone I saw. FREE BATHROOMS FOR EVERYONE! Screw this! I tell my husband we needed to leave. We go back out front. I try to call for a cab. We had made a mental note of their number – it was all the same digits, easy to remember. Except they weren’t advertising the area code! DANG IT! We finally find the right number.
The lady on the phone was obviously not trained in customer service! “We need a cab at the Pavilions Mall.”
“We need an address ma’am”
I look around, there are the street signs! “We are at the corner of blah, blah blah.”
“We don’t pick up that way. We need an address ma’am.” At that point, I feel like I am playing a game of charades. She asks, “Is there a store nearby?”
Excitedly, I call out “H&M”
Again she says, “We don’t pick up that way. We need an address.” This lady is really pissing me off! Get me a cab!!!
My husband all of a sudden gives me an address and I tell it to her. She asks, “Are you at that address?” Hell if I know! I am just yelling things out trying to get a damn cab!
I get off the phone – the longest damn conversation I have ever had!!! Why is everything taking SO LONG today??? Cause I’m stoned out of my mind. That’s why. I ask my husband, “Was that a real address you gave?” He points at the building across the street that has the address on it. Oh. As we stand there two excited girls with their dad yell out, “A cheerleader!” I’m looking around. Oh, that’s me! “Can we get a picture with you? You are the first one on our list for our scavenger hunt!” Why sure! The cab finally arrives.
We get in and I tell him we are staying at the Super 8 Midtown. “Oh, ok,” he says. He starts in, “So who you guys voting for?” OMG!!! My husband responds, “I don’t like either of the choices.” Don’t you know you NEVER discuss politics?!? He starts in. Blah, blah, blah. “Trump’s a rapist.” Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah. I do NOT remember the cab ride taking this long! He starts going on about the pot and how everyone was worried a bunch of dirty hippies would move in. I’m sitting there high as a kite while my husband holds the bag covered in bongs…Blah, blah, blah…does this guy ever shut up??? STOP TALKING TO ME! We pull up. Thank GOD!!!
My husband looks up. This is not our hotel! I’m so glad he was paying attention cause I was ready to run screaming from this political guy!! The guy turns off the meter and apologizes. I googled the address of the hotel and give him the exact address. He says, “just pay me what you think is right.” I remembered, somehow, how much we had paid the first one. Then he starts back in…”Hilary’s plan, blah blah blah” UGH!! We finally get back to the hotel and I hand him the money. Get me to the bed!!! I changed, take off my wounds and lay down. I felt like there was a 500 pound elephant on me. I tell my husband. He laughs. Then I sleep blissfully for 3 hours.