I had headed more toward the southern end of town recently while seeking out some dispensaries, and one that caught my eye in the search was Canna Meds Wellness Center. Their menu had a handful of enticing-looking strains, so it seemed like an easy choice, one that would certainly end in a happy head with some fun new flower to fly with.
I could already hear Lou Reed’s “Perfect Day” in my head as I was setting up my plans, and prepping for the canna critique to come. As a reviewer, I find myself hitting up a lot of shops that I haven’t previously visited and I notice a lot of customer service practices shared among the different dispensaries — especially extending member prices and benefits to non-members on their very first visit as a nod of appreciation for you giving them a shot.
Now these are by no means industry norms, nor are they necessarily required to entice consumers to become members, but when you encounter the practice time and time again, you tend to notice when that courtesy is not extended. Especially when it is part of a cascading comedy of errors (including a checkout kerfuffle) that makes the entire experience feel frustratingly farcical. Perhaps the budtenders were too distracted by the computer issues they were dealing with to think about making recommendations that would have saved me money and gotten me more bud for the buck. But when the non-member price would have gotten me just half the amount of product as other available deals on their shelf, with no mention from the tender, it felt like service here wasn’t the high priority that it is at other places I’ve visited.
I tried to put the negative experience behind me — setting aside my “Perfect Day” expectations and not letting it cast a dark cloud over my review — and steered back into the track for the Lemon Haze OG I ended up procuring. Lemon Haze OG’s genetics aren’t too much of a surprise, being the product of Lemon OG and the original Haze strain. This OG carried a sweet lemon aroma with the tiniest notes of peppercorn. The buds were a bit dry and would burst as you broke them up, dusting the area with a light layer of kief. It had spicy cedar bites with hints of bitter lemon rind at the finish when the flavor came to town, but most of that profile dissipated quickly, not carrying down into the deeper chords as the bowl burned on.
Somewhat disappointingly, the buzz seemed to follow suit and was also fairly light and fleeting. It started off with a bit of deceptive punch, like it was setting up for an impressive wave to come, but it faded without much fuss or further impact. In fact, it was almost like that first wave of “whoa” was pretty much the only card it was holding. It was quickly becoming apparent that the song I’d aligned symbolically with the day, and writing this review, was more relatable for its contradictory and melancholy feel than the much lighter, more hopeful vibe of its title. The experience, and strain, were both far from perfect, and unlike Lou, I might have preferred spending the day with a different strain from a different spot. Sadly, this Sativa does not get my seal of approval.