In November 2014, the people of the District of Columbia made their voices heard in a historic vote in favor of the “Legalization of Possession of Minimal Amounts of Marijuana for Personal Use Initiative.” This was met with celebration amongst stoners and non-stoners alike, but we didn’t know at the time that this “Initiative 71,” as they fondly nicknamed it, would prove to be literally the dumbest law that has ever existed.
Let me break this down for you, since it’s pretty obvious the government decided it would be super fun to give something that should be so simple a ridiculously long name in hopes of confusing people about what are and aren’t their rights. Under Initiative 71, any persons over the age of 21 are able to have up to two ounces of weed on their person at any time, “gift” up to one ounce of weed to another person, grow up to six marijuana plants in their own home as long as only two are mature at the same time, possess marijuana-related paraphernalia, and indulge in the privacy of their own home.
Notice I didn’t mention anything about buying or selling weed. That’s because under Initiative 71, it’s still illegal to do so.
Here’s where Kush Gods comes in.
Kush Gods is essentially a mobile weed distributor who is known around the streets of DC for their garish, nug-covered “Kushmobiles.” Their work is technically legal, since the company “accepts donations” for goods, rather than charging for them. Founder Nicholas Cunningham had previously been making a living on the West Coast, but moved East after the passing of Initiative 71 to tap into a market that was just forming.
Cunningham has been dragged to court more times than anyone would like to count (sometimes all you can do is lol about how our tax dollars are spent), and most of the cases resulted in his favor, except for the most recent, which required Cunningham to get his signature “Kushmobiles” off the streets of DC. This, of course, didn’t stop him. After following the Gods for a while now, I decided to see what the hype is about.
12:09pm: It’s that time on Friday where I’m like ‘shit, I need to figure out what I’m doing this weekend so I don’t stay in and cuddle with my roommate's cat like the loser that I am.’ I’m in the middle of brushing said cat off my lap when it hits me — this is the perfect moment to contact the Kush Gods. I went to their Twitter page, texted the listed number with what I felt to be a direct, yet low-key text, and awaited their word.
12:27pm: I half-expected there to be no response, but sure enough, they followed through. They even sent a link to some original Kush Gods music, as the company likes to showcase their involvement in other industries besides weed, namely music production and, not evidenced by this photo but still prominent, philanthropic work. I’m pumped.
5:00pm: I order an Uber to the location provided to me in the text message, excited but nervous for what is about to go down.
5:35pm: My Uber dumps me at the address listed, but to my surprise, the location is actually a very popular coffee place *winky smile* if ya know what I’m sayin’.
5:36pm: Palms sweaty, heart palpitating, I hesitantly look around the patio area for the “girl with the clipboard.” Even though my activity is technically legal, it feels like I am doing something bad. I push the thoughts of what my mother would have to say about this endeavor aside, approach the woman, and sit across from her at a table outside.
5:37pm: For the first few seconds I don’t make any sound, which makes it very apparent this is my first time. Getting the hint, the woman utters, with a knowing and kind smile on her face, “Would you like to make a donation?” I ask her, “What donation amount corresponds with an edible you have in stock,” trying to be all sly, and she responds a $10 donation will get me one weed cookie. "Is one enough to get you stoned?" I ask, like an imbecile. She literally laughs in my face.
5:38pm: Okay, so this is awesome. An edible for only $10! Side note: I think it’s pretty obvious I live in a highly overpriced city when I’m pumped about paying "only $10" for an edible.
5:39pm: Next, I am instructed to walk to an alternate location of the “popular coffee place” that is only a few blocks away. This whole thing feels surreal, and I’m such a square normally that this trek to legally acquire drugs makes me feel like the badass that I certainly am not. I walk in the door, approach the girl I am advised to meet, tell her my name, and then she just hands me a small baggie with the weed cookie inside. In broad daylight. In front of literally everyone at this coffee place. Casually. Like it wasn’t drugs. Kind of anticlimactic, but whatever.
6:15pm: Now that the deed is done, it is time for the all-important taste test. I take an initial nibble of the cookie to feel it out. It is delicious. Like a legit bakery-quality cookie that is moist yet chewy. It's almost more of a chocolate chip blondie than anything. The weed taste is still recognizable, but not to the the point where it’s disruptive. I inhale the remainder of the cookie, and then prepare my belly for dinner.
Pro-tip: eat your edible on a fairly empty stomach, so it’ll digest faster.
7:00pm: Sure enough, 45 minutes have passed and I start losing my train of thought mid-sentence, a true sign that I am indeed stoned.
7:15pm: My friend decides we should go get coffee because she lives in a bougie apartment building that has a Seattle’s Best machine in the lobby. I tell her Seattle’s Best Coffee sucks and is bitter at best. Okay, so good to know that any filter I came into the evening with has officially been eliminated.
7:17pm: We’re in the lobby. I’m feeling weird. I unintentionally make eye contact with every person in the room and I feel like they immediately know my secret.
7:19pm: I’m staring at the coffee as it brews. I am enamored with this thing. In my mind, it's basically a just-as-cool-but-smaller version of the fountain show at the Bellagio in Las Vegas. I’m definitely high.
7:20pm: I remember that my friend lives right above a Harris Teeter. She catches on to my thought process and suggests we make an ice cream run. I’m down, obviously.
7:25pm: We are in the freezer aisle. The brand and flavor of ice cream my friend wants is not on the shelf. She said she knows the truck is making its delivery as we speak, and asks an employee to go check in the back for it. I think it is very strange that my friend knows exactly when the ice cream delivery takes place.
7:26pm: My high is really coming on, and I’m pretty sure it’s been an hour since we last saw the Harris Teeter guy. People are walking through the frozen aisle, doing their normal shopping, but I feel like my lack of sobriety is obvious to everyone. I avoid eye contact.
7:27pm: Holy shit, I see someone I know. ABORT!!! Shit, he sees me, too. I hesitantly say hi, then somehow string together a slew of sentences that actually make sense. Our conversation ends naturally, and he resumes his shopping. Whewh. I survived a completely normal human interaction. My friend turns to me, asks if I just shat my pants, and I slowly nod without saying a word.
7:30pm: The Harris Teeter guy returns. I realize it’s only been five minutes, not ten years. They don’t have the ice cream. We settle for chocolate peanut butter, which is hardly settling.
7:31pm: We walk (at a glacial pace) to the self-checkout. I’m really confused because I’m holding the pint of ice cream in my left hand, but the hot cup of coffee in my right. The whole hot/cold combo is really tripping me out. It is kind of surreal, though. Like an icy hot patch is spanning over my entire body.
7:35pm: We’re safe and back in the apartment. I made it. I survived. I conquered. We break out the ice cream, and my friend hands me what I feel at the time is the largest spoon I’ve ever seen. I talk about the spoon for an entire minute, and how large it is, perplexed by my friend’s choice in flatware. I then proceed to eat the ice cream straight from the carton.
7:45pm: I finally put the spoon down after a solid 10-minute chow. I feel something sticky and realize I managed to get chocolate on my phone/hair/entire upper body. I have to go to the bathroom and essentially give myself a sponge bath. It’s fine.
8:20pm: Whoops, just spent an entire 45 minutes watching “Wine About It” on YouTube.
8:21pm: I just Googled “is djKHALED married,” so there’s that.
8:23pm: Still reading about DJ Khaled...why?
9:09pm: Deep thoughts.
9:30pm: I’m at the point where I’m playing with my hair and just can’t stop. Just like stroking my own head. I'm back home, and my roommate is giving me a weird look but I must continue. My hair is so soft. I. Just. Have. To. Touch. It.
10:00pm: After some serious vegging, I muster the strength to make the short trek up to my warm, comfy bed.
All in all I would say the Kush Gods came through for probably one of the best highs I’ve ever had from an edible. It wasn’t so strong that I passed out immediately or was paralyzed from being so blown. Just a good, solid buzz for the perfect amount of time. Not to mention I slept like a baby that night. 10/10, would do again, and I highly suggest you do, too.