It's a warm summer afternoon in Frisco. I've just wrapped the last bit of business for the day. I am officially free from all personal and professional obligations for the day and I've got my commuter pipe in my pocket, loaded with Durban Poison. For a marijuana enthusiast such as myself, it's the quintessential experience:
4:20pm: I've found a secluded patch of forrest at the western edge of San Francisco in which I can smoke a bowl in relative solitude. Dog walkers and urban hikers take little interest as I plow down 2 full bowls. I've got nothing to do and I might as well be high for it.
It hasn't lost any pungency in the past few days, which I like. I can also taste the weed a bit more (to be expected, since I previously smoked from a water pipe). It is earthy with a bit of fruit, which I like.
4:36pm: It's easy to get lost in the avenues if you ignore the street signs. An old friend of mine used to live nearby. He was a great sasquatch philosopher who was driven mad seeking order in the alphabetized streets and numerical avenues, so he retreated to the mountains to practice alchemy.
4:48pm: The Sunset is a weird place and full of mundane treasures. It feels like a distantly related cousin to San Francisco. Like a neighborhood in San Diego broke up with it's old lady and decided to wander north, and it never quite acclimated to the fog. It's a beach town that has sweater weather 300 days a year. But today, it is gorgeous.
4:56pm: The Durban Poison landed perfectly today. I had a hunch that this strain would lend itself to walking long, quiet city blocks and I was right. I am relaxed and my mind is a steady stream of pleasant, intriguing thoughts. There is a unique pleasure to being satisfied by one's own internal monologue and Durban Poison is proving itself a good straight for inner conversation.
5:24pm: The mighty Pacific waves to me from the horizon as I board an inbound J train. I don't have any come-down haze at all and I'll transition into a lovely Thursday night feeling chipper and upbeat.