This hits home. Way back when in my driving days, I would rarely drive while stoned. A trip to nearest 711 was always a treacherous journey, and I usually tried to avoid it at all costs. Unfortunately in VA (where I lived at the time), we didnt have the plethora of delivery options like we do here in NYC. If I wanted some gummy bears and a hot dog with relish and cheese, I was going to have to drive my fat, high ass to the 711 to get them. There were too many occasions of stopping at a stop sign and just forgetting to go again. Ah weed, while not dangerous, you’re a challenge sometimes. Respect the Bodega, son. Fatness is just a phone call away….