GT Stays at A 420 BNB

Yours truly was invited to a grownup sleep-over right here in the Nation’s Capital, with plenty of 420-friendly accommodations suitable for my fellow Gentlemen. Or however you define yourself! It’s like a Green Lantern Corps-kinda gig here at GT, we’ll take anybody that’ll wear green spandex and a Lone Ranger mask in public.

Right, so I arrived on Friday evening before the other guests to a beautiful BNB on a quiet cul-de-sac in Chevy Chase. The door was open and after letting myself in and some kind folks appeared to take my (modest) bag and show me to the room I’d be sharing for the weekend. The professional touch made a great first impression.

My roommate and I would each get a twin-sized bed, which was less than ideal, but I’d have had to put someone else out from one of the larger beds and figured I could manage for a couple nights since I was freeloading anyway.

I moved to Maryland recently, so it was convenient to have a place to crash in the city and not have to deal with traffic or parking getting over to the March for Our Lives protest.

When I came back downstairs, I was greeted with a small gift bag of goodies donated by I71 brands: a preroll, a 200mg Loudade, a 50mg infused water from Sensi Suite, and an infused brick of rainbow-colored soap. I drank the Loud-Ade and smoked the preroll in the backyard right away.

The five foot wooden fences all around weren’t completely private, but I felt perfectly comfortable blazing away behind them as I watched my smoke billowing out into the dark night.

As the rest of the party began to arrive at the inn, so too did our first I71 host of the evening. Our good friends Dope City Supreme were staffing a dab bar! That’s an excellent start to the weekend! They gave a basic intro regarding sativa/indica/hybrid classifications, then invited us to sample some tasty shatters and sauces off their e-nail.

Once everybody was lit to satisfaction, Bud Bingo began, which is exactly what it sounds like, Bingo with 420-themed prizes. It was late, so an easy game to get to know my fellow Real World contestants served as a great icebreaker.

The core of this retreat were the Saturday meals and activities. First, we had a non-infused breakfast with plenty of hot bacon after I bemoaned its absence from the menu Friday night. Look, I will walk right into a restaurant, alone, and order an entire meal of bacon. Zero shame in my grease game, son! After breakfast, Sensi Suite came to talk to us about Rastafarian culture and put on a blunt-rolling demonstration. I got some tips about how to score quality buds the next time I’m in Jamaica that I’m looking forward to trying out.

The next activity was yoga and infused tea with Golden Pineapple and as tempting as a glass of GPTea is, I had to make my way over to the March. While I was out protesting, those who had come simply to experience the District of Cannabis retreat had free time to explore the city or enjoy a cannabis-infused topical massage.

I showed up to the March an hour late and was surprised with how short it was, ending just around 3pm. The crowd was diverse, especially in age I’ve never seen school-age children protesting before, nor the elderly in such large numbers, with pleas to save their grand babies painted on signs they proudly thrust forward as they were wheeled in by their adult children.

I had come down 13th as close as I could get to Pennsylvania, and after working my way through the throng solo I only managed to get a block and a half in, barely able to see the giant screen, but right across from the Trump Hotel.

The people seemed a bit out of it, unable to keep a proper chant going, which I chalk up to Mercury’s retrograde status. There was no climax, no catharsis reached that day, but a firm sense that this assembly had been but a step forward on a long and challenging fight.

I made it back in time for Golden Pineapple’s Saturday night feast. They were very careful to check with all the guests regarding food allergies and dietary restrictions when planning the meal, and they kindly took my strange eating disorder (ARFID) into consideration, too.

With a full house happy, fed, and the THC flowing, the conversation rolled on well past dessert and late into the night. My good time was interrupted by an incessant migraine that didn’t like it when I moved my face, so I bid my hosts adieu a night early and returned home to the dark, quiet spaces more befitting this villainous specter. Til next time!

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