My first trip to Cannaceutics ended badly. I followed Google Maps to an address on [censored] that didn’t actually exist. I parked in a parking lot that had to be near the dispensary and gave them a call. “Hey,” I said when they answered, “I’m kind of lost. I can’t find your building at all.”“May I have your card number and name, please?” came the voice at the other end.“Really?” They needed a name just to give directions? I dug my wallet out and read my number aloud.There was a pause, during which I assume my information was being written down. “Did you look it up on Google? The address is wrong on there. We’re in [censored]. There’s no sign. Make sure to fill out the new patient form when you come in.” Silence as the line went dead.I went inside an office building and found the door in a cubby after searching for a few solid minutes. I stepped into [description omitted due to the explicit request of Cannaceutics, Inc. to maintain confidentiality]. I let out an audible, “Oh, hell no,” and bolted.That was three months ago.Recently, I had the insight that a [description omitted] might be a sign that the weed is good, and decided to clamp my jaw tight over the proverbial Bowie knife and jump into the foxhole, as it were. I planned my visit tactically, showing up at 12:30pm—after the morning rush and before the evening one. It paid off. The waiting room was empty. The woman behind the thick glass turned out to be much nicer than the voice I spoke with on the phone the first time, offering as good an experience in customer service as any, but I could only sense her presence. She was like a ghost hovering somewhere to the left of me. I think she was wearing glasses, but I can’t be sure.The rest was just as I had expected it to be: [description omitted]. But even knowing it was going to happen didn’t help to ease the surreal feeling of the whole experience. I said thanks and bolted.When I got home, it got weirder, though. My ass was just getting reacquainted with it’s best friend the couch, and I was pulling out a gram of Super Orange Haze ([information unavailable] $12/gram) when I realized there was no THC/CBD info on the baggie. I searched through the copious paperwork they’d sent home with me, but it didn’t list it anywhere. It had definitely been on the menu, though.Oh well. As you might have guessed if you’ve been reading between the lines of any of my previous column entries, the THC and CBD count aren’t exactly the most reliable way of knowing what a particular strain will do to you. To do that, dear reader, you have to smoke it.So I shrugged my shoulders and lit up. Super Orange Haze is a sativa-dominant cross of Super Lemon Haze and Agent Orange, meaning it has a bright smell and citrusy taste. I’ve found the oranges tend to be great mood enhancers, and this one was especially well-equipped to turn my frown upside-down. It also immediately kicked my appetite into overdrive, and I found the one downside to this great flower: Practically zero short-term memory. I’d recommend having dinner already cooked and avoiding the urge to bake cookies. You’ll burn them. Trust me.Later in the evening, I sampled Catwoman ([information unavailable] $11/gram), an indica-dominant hybrid that comes from Girl Scout Cookies and Cataract Kush. By far the tastiest of the strains I bought, Catwoman (which I’ll admit I picked because of the name) was sweet and smooth as silk. Though not too heady, my muscles immediately relaxed, all pain in my body ceased and I eased into sleep within a half hour of finishing the bowl—while still sitting up on the couch and holding my lighter like it was a life preserver.The next morning I woke up, ate a bowl of Froot Loops and got to work on a joint of OG18 Sativa ([information unavailable] $8/gram of shake), a cross of Chemdawg and OG Chem. This potent sativa popped my eyes open and really got me ready to roll. It’s amazing to me how certain strains seem to brush away the old cobwebs and leave me feeling fresh and invigorated, considering the old adage about “wake and bake.” OG18 Sativa tasted fruity and woody, and went down easily enough. The only physical sensation I was aware of was a slight buzzing behind the eyes. The majority of the high was riding in my anxiety centers, calming down the voice back there that’s constantly complaining. It would be great for anyone suffering from PTSD or social anxiety, as those tensions disappear quietly and without a fuss.Overall, the quality of the flower was some of the best in the city. The buds were sticky and beautiful, and every one of them packed a real punch. Which means I have to weigh the benefits of amazing weed at low prices against the general weirdness of interacting with a place that oozes paranoia. I’ll have to think about it.
Cannaceutics, Inc.For “patient and staff’s safety/privacy … [the] address is not made available to the public.”Hours: Tues-Fri 10:30am-5pmFirst-time Freebies: Yes
