Your good friends at How to Get Rid of Weed Smell, we hope you know, would never advocate any form of illegal activity. One can hardly but notice, though, that these days, such a large number of American (and other) jurisdictions have marijuana decriminalized. Whether the explanation is medical or recreational, a concern with getting rid of weed's distinctive odor nowadays is just good housekeeping. You'd think Martha Stewart would be covering this stuff!
A dinner invitation to your employer, a next door neighbor, or your in-laws, shouldn't be an aromatically awkward occasion. It doesn't matter if it's legal; some people just remain uncomfortable, for whatever reason, with marijuana smoking. At that point, the choices are trying to change other people's values and preferences to your own - an undertaking equally as notable for its futility as for its vanity - or you can just exercise a little discretion.
I say, if it happens in personal space let it stays in personal space. After all, that's really what personal space is all about, right?
The irony though is that many of us today who are conscientious about the virtue of aromatic discretion had our first experience with such matters under quite different circumstances. In my youth, and my hometown, pot was certainly illegal, though, through the perhaps somewhat rose colored glasses of recollection, there seems to have been a bit more of an innocence about it than there is today. Still, it wasn't on.
In any event, this story begins with my parents being away for a few days. My girlfriend at the time, the dishy (and otherwise amazing) Kimberley, was sort of staying with me in the parents' absence and my pal, the more or less perpetually pot addled Dave, had dropped by. We were hanging out in the living room, which was one of those icons of the mid to late 20th century, where the furniture was all covered in fitted plastic. It had a bit of a space station feel to it. Weirdly, for a while there, this was a popular choice for living room decor. The antiseptic look, you might call it.
Well, cutting to the chase, the parents were not expected back for a good 24 hours, but us three, only recently imbibing from Dave's bottomless stash, lounging on the plastic, were jolted from our smoky slumbers by the sound of keys prodding at the lock of the front door. Taken so off guard, I was utterly dazed and confused, and Dave rarely moved too far out of a semi-comatose state, but good old Kimmy, like the superstar she was sprung into action. In an instant she'd bolted across the room and with arms flying about at turbo speed flung open all the living room windows. Then she made like a streak of lightening over to where Dave was conked out and in a flourish swooped up the various pieces of his weed kit off the coffee table and stuffed it inside his jacket. I can still picture his laughingly startled expression.
I confess, I'm not entirely sure how certain I can be about this next part, but as I recall it, she then flashed across the room, opposite the open windows, and rapidly exhaled great gusts of air right through the entire living room. Miraculously, it would seem, this had the effect of completely sweeping any lingering smell of pot out the a-gape windows. Amazingly, by the time my parents arrived in the living room, there we were, the three of us, standing in single file, our faces sporting vaguely absurd smiles: perhaps reminiscent of the service staff employed at a mansion attentively awaiting arrival of a new lady of the house.
I have no reason to think for a moment that my parents would have been cool about us smoking pot. It is true, I'm pretty sure, they never had and maybe the smell wasn't as familiar to as many people as it is today. But one way or another nothing of any great important came of it. They seemed mostly annoyed at the prospect of us spreading our shabby carcasses across their plastic covered furniture. So, I don't know if they just didn't recognize the weed odor or if really-truly Kimmy, with her amazing girlfriend superpowers, did do something quasi-magic to instantly dispel the odor.
But, unless you happen to know Kimmy (and if you do, please let me know, I'd like to get in touch with her again), you'll need more conventional methods for dealing with such challenges. That's why we're here at How to Get Rid of Weed Smell. We've got the lowdown for you on the gold standard of aromatic discretion.
A dinner invitation to your employer, a next door neighbor, or your in-laws, shouldn't be an aromatically awkward occasion. It doesn't matter if it's legal; some people just remain uncomfortable, for whatever reason, with marijuana smoking. At that point, the choices are trying to change other people's values and preferences to your own - an undertaking equally as notable for its futility as for its vanity - or you can just exercise a little discretion.
I say, if it happens in personal space let it stays in personal space. After all, that's really what personal space is all about, right?
The irony though is that many of us today who are conscientious about the virtue of aromatic discretion had our first experience with such matters under quite different circumstances. In my youth, and my hometown, pot was certainly illegal, though, through the perhaps somewhat rose colored glasses of recollection, there seems to have been a bit more of an innocence about it than there is today. Still, it wasn't on.
In any event, this story begins with my parents being away for a few days. My girlfriend at the time, the dishy (and otherwise amazing) Kimberley, was sort of staying with me in the parents' absence and my pal, the more or less perpetually pot addled Dave, had dropped by. We were hanging out in the living room, which was one of those icons of the mid to late 20th century, where the furniture was all covered in fitted plastic. It had a bit of a space station feel to it. Weirdly, for a while there, this was a popular choice for living room decor. The antiseptic look, you might call it.
Well, cutting to the chase, the parents were not expected back for a good 24 hours, but us three, only recently imbibing from Dave's bottomless stash, lounging on the plastic, were jolted from our smoky slumbers by the sound of keys prodding at the lock of the front door. Taken so off guard, I was utterly dazed and confused, and Dave rarely moved too far out of a semi-comatose state, but good old Kimmy, like the superstar she was sprung into action. In an instant she'd bolted across the room and with arms flying about at turbo speed flung open all the living room windows. Then she made like a streak of lightening over to where Dave was conked out and in a flourish swooped up the various pieces of his weed kit off the coffee table and stuffed it inside his jacket. I can still picture his laughingly startled expression.
I confess, I'm not entirely sure how certain I can be about this next part, but as I recall it, she then flashed across the room, opposite the open windows, and rapidly exhaled great gusts of air right through the entire living room. Miraculously, it would seem, this had the effect of completely sweeping any lingering smell of pot out the a-gape windows. Amazingly, by the time my parents arrived in the living room, there we were, the three of us, standing in single file, our faces sporting vaguely absurd smiles: perhaps reminiscent of the service staff employed at a mansion attentively awaiting arrival of a new lady of the house.
I have no reason to think for a moment that my parents would have been cool about us smoking pot. It is true, I'm pretty sure, they never had and maybe the smell wasn't as familiar to as many people as it is today. But one way or another nothing of any great important came of it. They seemed mostly annoyed at the prospect of us spreading our shabby carcasses across their plastic covered furniture. So, I don't know if they just didn't recognize the weed odor or if really-truly Kimmy, with her amazing girlfriend superpowers, did do something quasi-magic to instantly dispel the odor.
But, unless you happen to know Kimmy (and if you do, please let me know, I'd like to get in touch with her again), you'll need more conventional methods for dealing with such challenges. That's why we're here at How to Get Rid of Weed Smell. We've got the lowdown for you on the gold standard of aromatic discretion.
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