Can you direct me to the closest smoke shop?

When I walked in, I knew ‌I was going to relax while in my cousin’s house

I was flying from Los Angeles, California to Philadelphia, PA. One of my airplane stops was in Las Vegas, Nevada. When we were offloading the plane, there was a lot of grousing going on about our delay. I already knew there was going to be a four-hour layover in Las Vegas, Nevada, but I didn’t know that a four-hour layover had turned into a two-day layover. Unlike many other people on the airplane who had to find a hotel, I simply called my cousin and asked him if he could pick me up and take me in for a couple of days. Since he was working, he gave me his address, told me how far it was from the airport to his house, and to make sure the taxidriver did not overcharge me. Once I got into the cab, and gave him the address, I asked him if he could do a little side stop and take me to the closest smoke shop? He chuckled and took me to a smoke shop that was less than half a mile away from my cousins. When I walked in, I knew ‌I was going to relax while in my cousin’s house. I bought enough marijuana products to keep me happy while in the presence of my cousin’s wife. I was even enjoying Las Vegas, Nevada, even though I was spending 36 hours with her. Thirty-six hours is the longest I’ve ever spent without that woman, but thanks to the marijuana, it went by like it was only 36 minutes.

 

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