Being a stoner in a cannabis-hostile country is, least to say, burdensome. You can’t grow your own marijuana, weed guys have their own interpretation of “be there in five minutes”, and even if you eventually manage to get your stash, you have to keep your wits about you should the cops came undercovered.
And if they catch you with weed, you’re going to have a hard time explaining how the hell these dried buds accidentally got into your pants.
My Name is Peter And I’m a Dedicated Stoner.
Guess what? I live in a cannabis-hostile country, and although Poland is a far cry from Singapore when it comes to punishing people for the possession of weed, facing up to 3 years in jail for smoking a plant is bonkers. Still, I’ve been smoking marijuana for 12 years in my country, being all-aware of what would happen if cops busted me with cannabis.
Bravery, stupidity, ignorance – you name it. I believe what Thomas Jefferson, one of the founding fathers, once said:
“If the law is aimed at putting restraints on your liberty, not only is it possible to break it, but one should also be justified for doing so.”
So here I am, just hit 26 this year and still living strong with my soon-to-be wife, being the antithesis of what reefer madness claimed marijuana could do to adolescents.
Weed improves my overall well-being, filters the garbage I have to put up with each day of my life, and above all, it bursts up my creativity levels to the ceiling. I’m never going to give up on cannabis, but I’ve always been dreaming of buying weed legally, at least once in my life.
Did The Dream Come True?
Oh boy, did it come true! Actually, the day I bought weed legally for the first time was the very same day I proposed to my fiance, so I remember every bit of that time. It was the summer of 2016, when we took advantage of the fruitful period in our freelance careers by taking a week-long trip to Amsterdam – the green lungs of Europe and the mecca of every weed lover.
How Did I Buy My First Legal Weed?
When we landed in Amsterdam and left the Schiphol Airport, the sweet scent of weed hit our hungry nostrils the moment we passed through the rotary exit door. It was a smell of a haven.
Let’s make one thing clear; traveling to a weed paradise as a person who lives in a marijuana-hostile country makes you instantly want to indulge yourself in the heaps of various cannabis strains, and we were no exception.
With only one goal in mind – which was, of course, reaching the nearest coffee shop and getting baked legally – we took a train to the very city centre, where the smell of marijuana reigned over. Luckily, the all-famous Amsterdam Centraal Coffee Shop was just ahead of us. All we needed to do was cross the street, enter the building, and see what happens.
I know, I know, it was just a regular weed place, but the thrill of freedom and the fact that we could buy weed legally for the first time were simply awesome.
However, before we entered the coffee shop, we left our luggage in the storage, and I had to be extremely careful not to show the engagement ring before I kneel down in front the love of my life.
Luckily, I succeeded.
When we entered the weed place, we were dazzled by the beautiful view of plenty peaceful people lighting up by the tables. The owner, who looked like he just swallowed an uplifting sativa blunt, instinctively knew we were tourists and gave us the menu with all strains available in the store. Isn’t it beautiful? The abundance of different cannabis species, and they’re all here to spice up your dream adventure!
What Happened Next?
Well, we didn’t have papers or any smoking stuff, so we decided to buy 2 pre-rolled joints and 3 grams of White Widow. Of course, the two joints were reserved for tripping around the city. Being all armed and ready, we took a walk to the small harbour where I planned to ask my love to become my wife – and she didn’t expect a damn thing.
However, it’s very easy to get nailed by your girlfriend if the two of you can’t wait to smoke these two impressive joints you just bought a while ago. Just as we were crossing the street, my boo asked me if I had a lighter.
I did have a lighter. But that lighter was in the inside pocket of my jacket, the same place where I concealed the ring. There’s simply no dumber way to propose to your girlfriend than being caught red handed while reaching for a lighter to smoke a doobie, so you can already imagine the rain of sweat that covered my entire body when she lifted her hand in the attempt to grab the lighter.
Thankfully, be it my innate cleverness or sheer luck, she gave up on this idea and let me pass the lighter myself.
Then, she asked me if we should already light one up – and I said ‘yes’ before she did. Anyway, I told her to wait a second as I was already freestyling the very best pre-engagement speech I could ever come up with. You know how it is, behind every great man stands his woman (and shakes her head), and so was the core message of my speech. After that, I kneeled before her, looked her deeply in the eyes, and asked:
“Will you make my life complete and become my wife?”
Yes – that’s what she said.
Finally, we lit these two joints together and experienced the most intense and upbeat high in our lives, being one step forward to create a happy stoner family. Let the rest of this trip remain a bit shrouded, as you probably don’t want to read how much we spent on weed, let alone all the money that went for fighting the munchies. And believe me, Amsterdam is a hell of a tempter when it comes to munching on delicious food.
~ Piotr Kuzniewicz
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