Mary Jane's Magnificat

COMES THE AXE - And off goes the block

Bill hurried and Sam shuffled off the open street and on to the sidewalk in front of the town's primary pot store. There's another one close to the fairgrounds, and two more out in the county close by but the commission was trying to renege on their licenses and looked likely to succeed. That could help this store even more being the only one downtown. It was pretty typical. Pot stores usually look like shady bars on the outside. They used to be homes or some small retail store and someone put cages on the windows and blacked them out. There's probably a neon open sign lit and an overweight security guard near the front door if he's not in the break room. Some places did the marketing thing with a sign and a brand, but there were many like this one that didn't need to. It was the Greenery on every map but like the pub, it was known as Willie's to the locals. It's funny how some habits die harder than others. For instance the neighborhoods where one bought pot after legalization were the same as before. Sure, Willie's was the in the privileged location downtown a bit off the main drag, but it still felt like stepping into the alley before buying something wrapped up in a plastic baggie. Being a turn off Main Street brought the feeling back to Sam of ducking into the run-down block or the projects where the weed was. Even though, it was nice here. That slight turn to the right and out of sight brought back old feelings. Most of the time with pot, at least, the paranoia of looking over your shoulder for the police was gone. That was nice. All things considered, this was an improvement for sure. No one would deny that except the curmudgeons who can't imagine the possibility of something outside their tiny world as beneficial or acceptable. But if their doctor shook his heuristic voodoo stick over their heads and proclaimed depression, good luck getting them off the pills.

The heavy door chimed cheerfully as Sam and Bill pushed it open, and the smell of herbs wafted by and rose their spirits instantly. The worn hardwood floors creaked with every step they took across the open room. Sam always liked the union of old and new inside the store. The curvature of the molding, everything polished by years of use and the dusty air abided in contrast to the large panes of reflective glass lit by LED light and the flicker of a fake fire under a multi-colored tile mantle. Sam and Bill walked around the line of four customers who waited behind a rope while one young lady was served by the only person behind the glass counter, Tiffany. To the untrained eye, they probably both looked like typical stoners. The customer wore a long hippie skirt of bright colors, a frilly white shirt and large loops under her ears. Sam could tell by the way she peered down at the numbers that she was a frugal one. Might as well have shown her the discount bin right away. Chuckling and shuffling by with his hands in his pockets, he watched Tiffany in her tight football jersey, too much makeup and alluring tattoos go for the big sale every time. The woman exchanged money for the weed she liked, which was undoubtedly the fluffiest and least stemmy and seedy of the options. Tiffany waved at her with exuberant enthusiasm until she was out the door. Sam and Bill stopped behind the counter before they got to the office door. They waited for Tiffany to speak to them.

"You're late again."

"I told him we would be," Bill said as he failed to hold down a snicker.

"No worries. We'll do your cleanup."

"What cleanup? It's been half dead," Tiffany erupted and lifted her palms to the air.

"How about a smoke then before you go?"

Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out a joint. Tiffany lifted an eyebrow and pointed at the back room.

"Think you better save that. They're waiting for you."

"They? Who's they?" Bill asked.

Tiffany pointed at Sam with an oversized harlequin fingernail.

"You know who and her father too."