Box Corner: Things to avoid while in a pot shop, or how to irritate your budtender


For states about to medical, let me learn ya something: there is no way to prepare for your first visit to a dispensary. It’s like you Neil Armstrong moon-walked into the Wonka factory. Unless the shop is staffed with little people suffering from extreme Carotenemia though, you’ll probably have to deal with a real life human being with their own set of issues. Don’t become one of them. Here are the five things to avoid if you want to ingratiate yourself to your new budtender:

Know what you like – and like it
The most frustrating thing I dealt with as a budtender was when a patient would say the following: “I loved the Sour Diesel, it was some of the best herb I’ve ever smoked. What do you have that’s like it?” knowing full well that Sour Diesel is still on the shelf.

Listen, either you’re lying to me and didn’t really feel it or you have no idea what you want and are chasing some mythical pot at the end of a rainbow. If it’s the former, that’s cool: every dispensary has strains that are weaker than the others. I ain’t mad atcha.
If it’s the latter, though, you’re either setting yourself up for disappointment or love every strain. Unfortunately, this isn’t Old Chicago where you get a fancy mug or some shit if you try all the beers.
Never touch
Hey, grabby! Keep your mitts to yourself. Someone else has to smoke that, and I don’t want to imagine where your hands have been. You’re reading a pot blog for fuck’s sake. If you really need to test the density of a nug, most collectives should be equipped with chopsticks at a bare minimum.
In some states, you could be breaking the law because you wanted to damage trichome heads like an over-excited preschooler squeezing a frog in a tiny aquarium.
Shaking creates shake
For some reason, patients love to shake jars once they hold them. This is completely unnecessary, just like when your douchebag brother in law swirls around a glass of wine before drinking it.
This nug-on-nug action may produce a slight waft of cannabis, but it’s also beating up perfectly innocent resin glands while simultaneously creating more shake. If your budtender opens a jar and there isn’t a distinguishable smell, the strain probably sucks, anyway. Just move on and quit acting like it’s a goddamn rock tumbler.

Denver’s Medicinal Oasis.

Have your shit together
I don’t care what pair of pants you left your ID in. Or if you’ve been in a thousand times. Getting belligerent with me because you didn’t bring the right paperwork is never going to work. I’m not losing my job, or worst case scenario going to jail, because you think you’re entitled to your pot whenever you want now.
The best was when a patient waited out front and tried to pull a “Hey, missus!” (like a high schooler trying to get beer) when an old lady walked by. She was actually going to the bakery next door. He looked like a total ass.
Don’t be a creeper
Every dispensary I’ve worked at has had at least one. As a rule of thumb, you never ask someone out while they’re working, at a funeral, or drowning. I’m sure there are others. If you think your budtender has a crush on you, in most cases they’re just doing their job well.
There are quite a few places that hire “boobtenders” to do just that: flirt with you and your money. Look for love elsewhere, and if you are convinced it’s true love, start shopping elsewhere so they don’t have a conflict. Or your medical records.

Box Johnson is a Denver-based comedian, budtender, columnist, birdhouse builder and champion Swedish rubber-ducky racer.