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Recently, I moved from Brooklyn to upper Manhattan. As a result, I’ve had to leave behind the cushy world of weed delivery, which is as complicated as texting a number and waiting for a skinny, white hipster to show up on a bike with various kinds of weed.
Luckily, moving closer to the George Washington Bridge has made it easier for me to see one of my childhood friends. He’s been biking over from New Jersey a few times a week with marijuana and spending long afternoons in my apartment, stoned and wishing the winter away. However, last week he drove off to a musical festival and left me in a lurch.
I go through phases with my marijuana consumption. My usage is almost entirely dependent on how happy I am in my life. At the start of my last relationship, my ex was wining and dining his way into my heart and I didn’t need to spend my alone time numbing my feelings with weed. Recently, things have kind of taken a downturn so I’ve run right back into my smoke cloud.
Besides, it’s February and New York is an ice ball. I wish I was living the kind of New York City life Carrie Bradshaw had, but my funds are limited and my tolerance for the cold is low. As such, my winter pastime is smoking weed.
When I began formulating a way to get my hands on that green, I did what I always do and took to Google.
After conducting some preliminary research and deciding that there was no way I could bring myself to talk to any of the guys that hang out in the West Village muttering the names of the drugs that they’re selling, I headed over to Craigslist and searched a variety of weed euphemisms in the "for sale" section. From finding furniture to roommates, Craigslist had never failed me before. So why not use it to find marijuana?
After searching through some posts, and some advertising weed products I’d never even heard of — still not sure what wax is — I found a handful of posts that seemed promising.
I sent out some emails and text messages and waited. Within two hours, a few people had gotten back to me. One person kept Bcc-ing someone else in our emails and refused to give me a phone number, which immediately put me on edge. I stuck it out with the one who seemed most like a drug dealer.
He asked me for the link to a social media site and an hour and a half later, we met up in front of a Papa John’s, and after introductions, wordlessly walked over to his building. He was blond, with wide set eyes and floppy hair. I was surprised by how young he looked and wondered how he got into the business of advertising on Craigslist. Of course, I didn’t ask.
When we got to his building, he invited me up to his apartment to collect the weed but I demurred, or rather I said, “No, thanks. I don’t want to get shanked.” After waiting less than 10 minutes, he came downstairs and handed me two Ziploc bags. I asked him how old he was, he said 20, and told me to contact him anytime. He also did deliveries.
The whole interaction was less unpleasant than the time I bought two Crate and Barrel bookcases from a lady in Murray Hill who seemed on edge during our entire transaction and kept reminding my 5'4" boyfriend and I that her husband was in the next room.
However, I undoubtedly put myself at risk for something fairly frivolous. While I did run the chance of being fooled by law enforcement, I also could have gotten robbed or worse. But I assuaged my fears about robbery by reasoning that I was only buying a small amount of weed and thus, not meeting a stranger whilst carrying hundreds of dollars.
I don’t plan on ever perusing Craigslist for drugs again. Despite how innocuous the whole experience was, it has reminded me to step back and reevaluate my relationship with marijuana. The next time I need a distraction from my life, I should probably open a book.