10 undeniable signs you were a stoner in a small town
Small towns are a strange place to be a stoner.
There’s always a bit of culture shock when you move from a small town to a city. The lack of trees, the endless drone of sirens bouncing off a sprawling heap of concrete and neon lights. Who lives like this? Millions apparently, millions of people who are unfamiliar with the comforts and struggles of a stoner in a small town.
1.) You’re on a first name basis with the pizza delivery dude.
When the pizza place answers the phone with, “Hi Dave,” instead of “May I take your order,” it might be time to consider a salad. Unless, of course, your hometown has that small-time stoner charm. When the distance to your nearest neighbor has to be measured in acres, inviting the delivery dude in for a quick smoke sesh only feels right. I mean, the guy does make a trip to your house every weekend. You’re practically related.
2.) Your high school gym teacher was a regular at the smoker’s pit.
We all had that one teacher who was more spaced than the students and it was probably the one whose job it was to teach you the basics of dodgeball. It was the one class you never really had to worry about because the person at the front of the room didn’t seem to care either. You’d probably see them at lunch, asking for a light.
3.) Everybody pitch.
An unwritten rule of every gathering is that everyone throws in a bit of their bud and we all get by. Don’t be a dick, this is a canna-community and we all know where you live.
4.) What do you mean Sativa or Indica? I’ll take what I can get.
‘How do you want to feel today?’ was never a choice you were confronted with. Instead, it was more of a game of weed roulette. You get whatever the dealer brought to the party and you were always happy to smoke it. They were simpler times when your dealer would have to walk uphill both ways to get to your house. At least, it sure felt that way when the text you received an hour ago said, “omw 5 mins.”
5.) Your dealer is chill af with spotting weed.
“I’ll get you back,” are four words that will never be spoken in the city. But in a town of 2,000, it was more like living on an island. Where the hell were you going to go? Besides, it’s only a matter of time before you came back to the only person in town who sold. Which brings us to…
6.) There is legit one dealer.
It wasn’t really a question of where you would get your weed, just a question of whether that one person you all knew had any at the time. This person was probably a close friend, possibly even your best friend. He was a regular at the house parties and everyone eagerly awaited his arrival like children on Christmas Eve.
7.) You’d rather spend your weekend getting high at a bonfire than drunk at the bar.
To be honest, there was only one bar in town and the owner banned you for lighting a joint on the patio because he was running for deputy-mayor and it made him look bad… Too specific? Alright, but we all remember that one bar, the local dive that served watered down beers and somehow smelled like urinal cakes everywhere but the bathroom. It was nowhere near as fun as chilling with your friends around a fire where you could smoke in peace and choose the music. Speaking of which…
8.) Someone at the house party will try to throw on some country music, you will stop them.
This was always the friend who was more drunk than high. I mean, who else would change the song right in the middle of the chorus? We may be surrounded by corn fields, but if you touch that stereo while Cypress Hill is playing there will be consequences.
9.) Finding a place that would deliver at 2 AM was torture.
What the hell is Uber Eats? We don’t even have a bus route out here. If you’re chilling with friends on the weekend and you get the late-night munchies the fridge better be stocked because it’s only a matter of time before you’re going to have to get really creative with toast.
10.) The local McDonald’s always had a cop parked out front in the middle of the night and you know why.
You haven’t lived in a small town until you’ve been ID’d by a cop at the only McDonald’s for miles. Its 3 AM and at this hour of the night the place was packed with only one kind of customer. There’s a line in front of the counter that puts the Rick and Morty’s Szechuan sauce hype to shame, but you wait anyway because the self-serve machines are a little too much to handle right now.