Every edible experience follows the same script. It has been this way since the first person ate a pot brownie in the 1960s and it will be this way when our grandchildren eat THC-infused molecular gastronomy in 2070. The script is universal. The script is eternal. The script goes like this:
The Timeline
0:00 — You eat the edible. It's 10mg because you read the label like a responsible adult. You feel nothing. You feel superior to the label.
0:20 — Still nothing. You begin to suspect the edible is broken. 'Maybe this batch is weak,' you think, with the confidence of someone who has never once been right about this.
0:35 — A small voice says 'eat the other half.' This voice is the enemy. This voice has never had your best interests at heart. This voice will be the star witness at the trial of your evening.
0:40 — You eat the other half. You have now consumed 20mg. The first 10mg has not yet entered the chat.
1:00 — The first 10mg enters the chat. You think: 'Oh. There it is. That's nice.' This is the eye of the hurricane. Enjoy these 15 minutes.
1:15 — The second 10mg arrives. It brought friends. The room is different now. Not bad different. Just... more.
1:30 — Your body is humming. The couch has opinions about your posture. The ceiling has always been that interesting, right? You reach for your phone to check the time and it takes a strangely long time to figure out which app shows you the time.
2:00 — You are having either the best or worst night of your life and you're not sure which. Schrödinger's High. The pizza you ordered 45 minutes ago arrives and it's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. You eat the entire thing. You feel nothing about this. Actually, you feel proud.
3:00 — The peak. You've made peace with your current state of being. You're watching a nature documentary and you're genuinely moved by the journey of a single salmon. You understand the salmon. You ARE the salmon.
4:00 — The slow descent. You're still high but in a 'warm blanket' way rather than a 'the walls are breathing' way. You text someone something slightly too honest. You'll see it tomorrow and cringe.
6:00 — You fall asleep in your clothes, on top of the covers, with the TV still on. You will wake up tomorrow and say the words everyone says: 'I should have just eaten half.'
The Lesson Nobody Learns
The packaging says 'start with 5mg.' Medical professionals say 'start with 5mg.' Every cannabis website says 'start with 5mg.' Your friend who had The Incident at Thanksgiving says 'start with 5mg.'
And yet.
Every week, someone looks at a 10mg gummy and thinks 'how bad could it be?' like a character in a horror movie opening the basement door. We know how bad it could be. They know how bad it could be. And down the stairs they go.
Edibles are not a trust exercise with the edible. The edible will always work. The edible is reliable. The edible is the most honest product in the cannabis industry — it says exactly how many milligrams it contains and does exactly what those milligrams promise.
Edibles are a trust exercise with yourself. Specifically: do you trust yourself to listen to the advice? To eat half and wait? To not be the person who says 'it's been 30 minutes and I don't feel anything'?
You do not trust yourself. None of us do. And that's okay. The salmon doesn't trust itself either, and it turned out fine.
This is satire, obviously. For actual cannabis info that's actually useful, visit WeedVader.com.