When I was 16 I found out that my Uncle Dave was a pothead, and a part-time marijuana dealer.
I was surprised, I was shocked, but I was also very interested.
My high school chums and I had dabbled with smoking weed before, but it always tasted terrible. I knew we were getting ditch weed, and not quality marijuana, and I was hoping Uncle Dave could hook me up. I went to visit him one day without telling my parents, and rode my bike to his house with a pocket full of cash. Uncle Dave answered the door in a cloud of cannabis smoke, and looked genuinely surprised to see me. He gave me a lame excuse about needing medical cannabis to help with his glaucoma, but I knew he didn’t have glaucoma. We sat down on his porch, and I explained that I wanted to buy as much medical cannabis as he would sell me. To my surprise, Uncle Dave pulled out a jar filled with medical cannabis and proceeded to roll a joint by hand. As we smoked it together, he explained that he would not sell medical cannabis to me and my friends. It could get him in major trouble with the law, and our family. Uncle Dave felt that medical cannabis was something everyone should have access to, but because I was 16 he hesitated to hook me up. He was happy to smoke medical cannabis with me, but he refused to sell me any to take to my friends. After that I started hanging out with Uncle Dave a lot.