My first experience with head shops came when I was 18 years old, a recently graduated high school student who was working hard over the summer to save up money for college. Or at least that’s what I told my parents I was saving the money for. In reality, more than a little of that money was set aside for something that I considered to be more important, namely beer and weed. (If that isn’t classic 18 year old thinking, I don’t know what is. What’s even funnier is that we allow 18 year olds to vote. How Bob Marley was never elected President is one of life’s enduring mysteries.) Continue reading