The Customer Who Just Moved from Texas

The Customer Who Just Moved From Texas has been in California for eleven days. 

They mention this within the first ninety seconds of the interaction.

They do not need to be asked.

"It's just crazy," they say, gesturing at the entire wall of flower, "because where I'm from…"

The budtender — let's call her Maria, because in 60% of recorded sightings the budtender is named Maria (duh) — nods.

Maria knows where they're from.

Maria has known where they're from since the door opened.

"…you just couldn't. Like, at all. Legally."

"Right."

"We used to drive to New Mexico. For gummies."

"Mmhm."

The Customer picks up a jar. Studies it. Puts it down. Picks up a mylar bag. Reads the label out loud, which they did not meant to do.

"Blueberry Muffin," they say, to the bag, with feeling.

 "Is it supposed to taste like blueberry muffin, or is this. Like. A joke."

"It actually kind of does."

"What."

Maria waits while the Customer processes this information.

The Customer picks up a third jar and puts it back down without reading it, as if they no longer trust their own eyes.

"And these are just. Sitting here. On a shelf. Like it's a grocery store."

"Yes."

"And the prices are, like, written on them. Like regular prices."

"Yes."

"And I can just. Buy this. Like a normal thing."

"Yes."

"And no one's going to—"

"No."

"—call my mom or anything."

"Definitely not."

The Customer stands in the middle of the store, holding the bag of Blueberry Muffin, a free adult in the state of California on a Tuesday afternoon.

"This is insane," they say, to no one, to themselves. To the ghost of the Texas they just left.

Maria has lived here her whole life. 


She tries to imagine it anyway. A door. And on the other side…a very…very…different world.


"Do you want me to walk you through the shelf?"

"Yes please."

They take twenty-two minutes and thirteen seconds. Exactly.

Maria will do it again tomorrow with the one from Ohio. Wednesday, Tennessee. On Saturday, memorably, the one from Iceland, who will cry a little at the edibles section. Maria will pretend not to notice.

This is the work.


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P.S. Blueberry Muffin is real. We don't carry that one, but we do carry these (opens in new tab).