It’s crazy to think that a few short years ago one could expect to be tossed out of a head shop simply for saying the word “bong.”
In those days of “tobacco water pipes” and winking conversations with store staff, the need to employ language artfully made each interaction take on a delightful speakeasy quality, with no one saying exactly what they meant despite everyone fully understanding what was being communicated. It could be cumbersome, of course, trying to delicately express one’s needs without accidentally stepping on one of the trap-door words — especially if you were ballsy/foolhardy enough to try to talk a head shop employee into helping you score some weed — but it also lent a certain mystique to the proceedings that became a large part of stoner culture in its own right.
Fast forward to today. More often that not, the first interaction I have when walking onto the sales floor of a dispensary goes something like this:
BUDTENDER: So, what brings you in here today?
TOMMY: I have come here to buy weed from you.
BUDTENDER: Yes, we can do that.
I’m likely guilty of romanticizing a practice that