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Dear Snappy Answers,
I moved here from the U.S. a little while ago. Down there, I would hear these stories about the lax marijuana laws here and the more lax enforcement of those laws. When I got here, I thought I would have an easy time getting my smoke on. Unfortunately, that has not been the case.
I’ve posted on Craig’s List; I’ve talked to proprietors of smoke shops; I’ve even spent hours walking a loop in Kensington Market (as one proprietor suggested) with the hope that someone would approach me on the street. The one thing I’ve learned from these experiences? Desperation must be a repellent to pot dealers.
I don’t know anyone else here I can ask (and you said “ask anything,” not “ask anything that won’t require us to break laws.”)
I know it’s out there. I just don’t know where. Do you?
When you like a girl (assuming you like girls), do you walk a loop around her neighbourhood with the hope that she eventually approach you with a shy smile and an offer of “maybe a drink or two sometime?” Or do you take a deep breath, try not to look so desperate, and go knock on her door?
If you have half a testicle, you’ll choose the latter method. And that method works for pretty much everything in life, because as everyone knows, life is a game whose meaning is best explained through vague sports analogies. In this case, you’ll only score if you take chances.
Furthermore, our guess is that the Kensington proprietor who gave you this hilariously useless advice was totally screwing with you. Probably because you’re American. So drop the Yank accent (and with it, phrases like “get my smoke on”—not cool) and pick up a Tim Horton’s mug or a hockey stick or something (we actually have no idea what makes someone Canadian, which is what makes us so Canadian).
If you’re still not having any luck at the Hot Box Café (where they can’t sell it themselves, but probably serve half the people in town who do), head out of the market and up to College Street. Start at Spadina, walk west, and ask every relatively friendly-looking person you see the same question: “Hey man, you know where I can find some weed?”
And if you get to Bathurst without getting any, stop in at Sneaky Dee’s (431 College Street). It’s a veritable mecca for starving indie rockers, procrastinating students, and other high-minded individuals looking to cure their munchies with cheap Tex-Mex. Guaranteed, everyone in this joint knows someone who knows someone who sells the stuff out of their dorm room.
Supporting anecdote: A former Torontoist contributor once approached a couple of band boys smoking outside Sneaky’s. She shared their pot, then asked where she could get some of her own. They pointed to a big white van pulling up on the street—yes, just like in the movies—and said, “Those guys.” She and her friend were actually about to climb in when her boyfriend came out, freaked out, and saved her from making a very hazy decision.
While Torontoist doesn’t recommend climbing into big white vans with random strangers—or posting on Craigslist, which is more or less the same thing—we do suggest making friends with them. Who wants to get high alone, anyway? It’s the next worst thing to getting off alone.
Are TTC drivers actually allowed to stop their streetcar, get out and grab a double-double with a toasted plain bagel with cheese while everyone on the car just sits there?
You mean, are TTC drivers actually allowed to get hungry and take occasional five-minute breaks to sustain themselves through their long, repetitive, stressful and sometimes even traumatic work days?
God, we hope not.
Does Gord Martineau wear a toupee? And if not, why does his hair look like a helmet?