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"My little brother's friends sell drugs to me. They're fourteen. I'm not proud of it."
Going home for the holidays is a marvelous thing. It's a well-documented fact that calories don't count if they're cooked by your mother and if you run into your high school nemesis outside of Costco, she will look exactly as she did at graduation—and ideally in an even less-flattering robe.
For many, going home for the holidays means it's a lot harder to get high, often because you're traversing into a state where weed is still illegal, or your dealer has grown up and moved out of his mom's house, or both. While there is no purer joy than realizing that all of your siblings also own laptops and will no longer dictate that you watch reruns of "How It's Made" on Netflix, the reality of having to watch your shows while not high on your mom's couch might be worse.
For some, the prospect of being at home for a couple of weeks without drugs might be an opportunity in disguise—a tolerance break, even for a week or so, could be good for your wallet and even your dreams. Others are determined not to give up on getting stoned over the minor setback of not knowing where to get any weed.
Karina* had this exact experience when she went home for the holidays last year. "I hit up everyone and no one had weed. No one." Facing a drought, Karina decided to compromise. "I ended up buying a lot of molly for New Year's," she said, though she advises against making a similar decision. "There's nothing worse than rolling while at home." She explained that the chances of needing to drive somewhere or talking to your parents about your "feelings" are high.
While speaking to people about their drug hunt endeavors, a similar narrative emerged: The first call typically starts with the stoner from high school who never left home. Last year, Lily found herself back home for four weeks. "It's kind of depressing to go to someone's basement and see that they haven't really moved from the couch since I graduated high school," she said. However, that didn't stop her from buying a month's supply of weed and edibles, at discount. "I played up how much fun we had back in the day, threw in a couple of Rick and Morty quotes and walked out of there a Q heavier."
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Sal used to buy from the stoner from his high school, but once his hookup decided to go back to school and move away, he had to develop new strategies. "This year, I'm on the hunt for someone that's at least over 35 years old," he said, reasoning that, by 35, they're probably pretty settled. "They will be in your hometown forever and you'll have a hookup for life."
Others have found that their hookups at home are often unreliable—forcing them to improvise. "I usually pick up from my dealer at this Dunkin Donuts right by my parent's house," Mitch said, explaining that one time, his dealer never showed up. "I ended up going into Dunkin Donuts to get something to eat before heading home and realized that everyone in there was super baked. I tried to be as discreet as possible and asked the man making my coffee for a hookup. That did not go well; I think I might have offended him, too."
They made me jump through hoops to prove I wasn't a cop or something—I had to send a Snapchat video of me saying who I was before they even gave me prices.
While fast food chains might be a bust, some have found luck in other unlikely places, like Uber Pool. "There was only one other guy in the car with me," Rose* said. "It was weird, he was the first one to get picked up but had decided to sit in the passenger seat. He didn't talk but when he got dropped off, he turned around and gave me a little business card." The card advertised his lawn maintenance business, but while examining it later, Rose was delighted to find a tiny marijuana leaf printed in the background. "We texted the number and were set on edibles for the rest of break," she said. "He even referred us to his buddies when we wanted shrooms."
For some lucky few, finding weed is as easy as asking around at home. "My little brother's friends sell drugs to me," Sally admitted. "They're fourteen. I'm not proud of it." But it's still not simple. "They made me jump through hoops to prove I wasn't a cop or something—I had to send a Snapchat video of me saying who I was before they even gave me prices."
Sylvia buys from her aunt in bulk. "I went a little crazy and spent all of my Christmas money on weed and then couldn't take it back on the plane ride home," she said. "But I'm not too pressed, I have it hidden in my childhood room and I'll be gold every time I visit. I just hope it doesn't get too dried out."
Apart from those who call Colorado, Washington, or California home, I found that Dylan had the best set up. "Growing up, the basement would smell kind of funny," he said. "When I reached high school, I realized that it was my dad. Now that I'm an adult, we just smoke together. I don't really know where he gets it but I do know that he calls it 'green.'"
*All names have been changed.
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