A Very Fancy Fuckin’ Farmacy & Harry The Happy Security Guard

A Very Fancy Fuckin’ Farmacy & Harry The Happy Security Guard


More AltarCraft… Ganesha Box Altar w/ altar to Parvati, the new goddess of my hearth. Oh… Happy Buddha is hanging out too. He’s sittin’ in for Kwan-to-tha-Yin-rather-than-to-the-Yang-Cos’-They’re-Two-Very-VERY-Different-Thangs.

I stopped by my local farmacy on the way home from the office on Friday… It’s the only day of the week where I’m close enough to beat the traffic. I hate the neighborhood it’s in, although it’s probably the nicest place of it’s kind in my area. There are some funky hippie bitches up the street who operate one as well, but they’re sort of nosy. They want to know if you’re shopping with the competitors also, and aren’t shy about it. Look, Hippie Bitchez… I just want some damn cannabutter! Please stop with the third degree, and ring me the fuck up, Buttercup! Yup… My Erisian Temperment flares when I cavort amonst hippies. I’d rather go up the street to the other farmacy. There are mostly young dude-bros, young white gangsta dudes, professional-looking men under 40, and the occasional crackhead. I am typically the only professionally dressed women in the place. If there are girls, they are usually hippie chicks who stroll in on the chiseled arms of dude-bros, giggling together with their newly-minted “Dr.’s Recommendation” in hand. It’s quite an easy thing to obtain, and quite frequently I notice that the young folk flock in together in groups when signing up at a dispensary with new letters in hand.

It’s like they decided to make a day out of it… Go to Dr. Go To Weed Store. Buy Weed. Get High. Eat Snacks. Get High. Feel AWESOME.

I like it well enough… It’s a classy joint, very fucking fancy compared to the old hippie haunt in my locale. I’d never ever restock my supplies there. The parking lot is far too conspicuous, and the community is just too small. I’ll go to Fancy Fuckin’ Farmacy out of town before I’d park where my neighbor or my mom could see my car.

When I go, there is always the same security guard. He’s in his mid-forties, balding with long blondish-grey hair that’s decidedly mulletesque in the back. I’ve never seen such a happy security guard… He’s like the Happy Buddha of  Security Guards! He opens the door for you, and greets you with a “Well hello there, Miss!” or a “Hey whats-up, Bro?” or a “Hey there… How’s it goin’, Man?”  followed by a “Welcome to the Fancy Fuckin’ Farmacy! C’mon in… ?”. He’s cool and calm about, but is very sincere and inviting. You’ll take a seat, and watch as he opens the door for any one he can. He answers the phone quickly and cheerfully, rattling off express orders and turning them in to the CannaBaristas in the back. He grabs redbull for the cute 19-year-old receptionist. As you wait, he’ll gleefully usher small groups of people in the lobby into the door to the Back Room, where the merchandise is lovingly and tenderly displayed for your smellin’, lookin’, and purchasin’ pleasure. I’ve never seen such an engaged security guard! Usually they’re either young, psychotic, fat and lazy, old, or simply just useless. (I work in an industry where their presence is sometimes needed, so I am quite familiar).

It’s not a forced or fake cheerfulness. It’s sincere and infectious. The guy is so damn cool and causal about it, yet still so damn jolly. You can tell that despite his little belt decked with pepper spray and a flashlight… He loves his job. He loves it. I think we all know why…

He’s higher than a fucking kite…. and loving it!

I guess I get where he’s coming from. I’m feeling a little bit that way myself. Peacefully and subtly optimistic and good. I think we could all take a lesson or two from Harry The Happy Security Guard. He’s happy to have the lucky to work in such a place, despite having a job that usually sucks. Being a security guard sucks ass. The Magician did that for like a week one summer for extra money when we were in college. Yeah. Sucky job.

I’m in one of those sort of peacefully but joyfully content sort of phases. It’s just sort of… well… nice. This might be because my Local Farmacy has had some rather nicely potent offerings of late. It also might be because all of this really good stuff in my life is happening at once, and all of it is the result of a very long hard struggle or a lot of work of some sort. At home, in my family, in my spiritual work, in tarot, and even at work… Physically I’m still a trainwreck, but I am seeing a little hint of progress of late through going to a different physical therapist and changing my medications around a bit. No, not the medications from the Farmacy… I mean like pain meds. Found a tumeric supplement that has really made a difference. I’m still in a lot of pain, but that combined with some newer, better therapies has given me the kind of progress I haven’t had in a long time. It’s not a lot, but it’s enough to restore some hope. Even if I have to live with it, maybe I’m simply learning ways to live with it better.

I am… here… and it’s really not so bad. And while my solar plexus chakra waits for the other shoe to drop, at least the rest of me is appreciating it all, whatever it means. None of this would be possible without the Farmacy…

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