High Hopes and Dank Realities: A Day in the Life of a Budtender:

Ah, California—the land of endless sunshine, avocado toast, and, naturally, some of the finest legally-grown cannabis on the planet (though I’ve gotta give props to our northern neighbors—those Canadians know how to grow some killer BC Bud). As a proud budtender in this green paradise, it’s my job to guide wide-eyed customers on their journey to “elevated” experiences. Sounds laid-back, right? Well, buckle up, because a day in my life is more like a rollercoaster than the chill puff-puff-pass you’d expect.

8:00 AM: The Pre-Shift Ritual

I wake up to the soothing sound of birds chirping—or my alarm screaming like it’s angry at my existence. I quickly grab my "Namaste AF" coffee mug and sip my overpriced oat milk latte while I scroll through memes about how relaxed my job should be. Spoiler alert: it’s not.

9:30 AM: The Morning Meeting

The team huddles up before opening the store. Our manager, who refers to himself as “Chief Leaf Executive,” tells us to prepare for the onslaught of questions that range from the bizarre to the downright philosophical. “Remember,” he says, with the intensity of a TED Talk speaker, “we’re not just selling cannabis, we’re curating experiences.” I nod seriously, thinking about how my last curated experience involved explaining to a customer that smoking CBD flower will not make them time-travel.

10:00 AM: The Early Birds

Doors open. In walk the early risers—AKA, the hardcore stoners who treat cannabis like some

sort of sacred religion. They’ve done more research on terpenes than I’ve done on my own tax returns. I brace myself for the inevitable first question of the day:

Customer: “Do you have any sativas that are crossbred with a rare landrace strain from the Himalayan mountains, with an undertone of pine and a whisper of citrus?”

Me: “We have Pineapple Express.”

Nailed it.

11:00 AM: The First-Time User**

Next up is the newbie. Every. Single. Day. It’s someone who’s never touched weed before but now wants to “just dip their toes” in. They’re usually armed with a list of questions that feel like they came from a college admissions test.

Customer: “Will this give me anxiety? What if I get too high? Is this one good for my chakras? Will I see God?”

Me: “Yes. Yes. Probably not. Definitely not.”

After 20 minutes of hand-holding, they buy a single 5mg gummy like they’re smuggling plutonium out of the store. I salute their bravery as they leave, knowing full well they’re going to eat the whole thing in one go and call me in a panic later, convinced they’re dying.

12:30 PM: The Hipster Dad

Just before lunch, he arrives. The middle-aged dad who refuses to accept that he’s not 25 anymore. Dressed in a vintage Bob Marley shirt and Vans he just bought last week, he saunters in and asks for “whatever’s strong, man.”

Customer: “You got any of that OG Kush? That was the good stuff back in the day.”

Me: “Sir, that was 1995.”

I offer him a hybrid, secretly praying he doesn’t injure himself trying to skateboard with his kids

after consuming this. He tells me to “keep it real,” as he leaves, making me wonder if I’m trapped in a bad ‘90s sitcom.

2:00 PM: The Edible Evangelist

Post-lunch, it’s time for the edibles enthusiasts. These people act like they’re starring in a cooking show, asking questions about every ingredient, potency, and flavor. They’re not just buying weed; they’re crafting a gourmet experience for their soul.

Customer: “Is this infused brownie vegan, gluten-free, cruelty-free, and farm-to-table?”

Me:“Well, it’s from the dispensary to your table. Does that count?”

After a 30-minute lecture on the ethics of THC extraction, they walk out with a single pack of watermelon-flavored gummies. Namaste.

4:00 PM: The Grandma

Ah, the grandmas. Bless their souls. They're here because someone told them that cannabis will help with their arthritis, insomnia, or just make life a little more bearable after watching Fox News all day. Sweet, but utterly clueless.

Customer: “Do you sell the marijuana?”

Me: “Yes, ma’am, we sell the marijuana.”

After explaining the difference between a joint, a vape pen, and an infused bath bomb (which she thinks is something you drink), she buys a tiny jar of CBD salve and tells me I remind her of her grandson.

5:30 PM: The Guy Who Thinks He’s in the Olympics**

This guy. Every day. He comes in dressed like he's either about to hit the gym or compete in an Ironman triathlon.

Customer: “Bro, I need something that’ll help me hit my PB at the gym but also chill me out, you know? Maybe like a pre-workout that’s also a post-workout?”

Me: “You want weed to be both a Red Bull and a chamomile tea?”

I give him a sativa-dominant hybrid and hope for the best. He leaves with a fist bump and way too much energy for a man who just bought something designed to make him calm down.

7:00 PM: The What Year Is It? Customer**

As closing time nears, the store fills with people who have no concept of time—because they’re already too high. These are the regulars who forgot they were here just two days ago.

Customer: “Dude, I need that strain you sold me last week. You know, the one that made me feel like I was floating but also grounded?”

Me: “...You’ll have to be more specific.”

Eventually, they settle for something random and leave with a grin on their face, completely

forgetting that they came in with a question.

8:00 PM: Closing Time

The doors are finally closed, and the team is wiped out. We all exchange war stories from the day, from the guy who tried to barter with a bag of Doritos to the woman who thought we were running a pharmacy. Our manager gives us a pep talk about the "mission" we’re on to normalize cannabis and help the world relax.

I go home, throw on some comfy clothes, and unwind with the same product I’ve been selling all day. After all, sometimes you need a little CBD balm to recover from helping others get high.

And that, my friends, is a day in the life of a California budtender. High expectations, higher customers, and somehow, I keep coming back for more.