Columnist Frank Cerabino is definitely not auditioning as a marijuana reviewer
News item: American Marijuana, an online resource for medical marijuana, is looking to hire a marijuana reviewer.
The reviewer would be paid $3,000 per month to test a box of cannabis products sent to his or her home. The reviewer will test all the products and write blog posts and do video reviews about them.
Applicants should have “extensive knowledge of marijuana”, be over 18, physically able to smoke every day, and live in a state where medical marijuana is legal.
American Marijuana says it’s not looking to hire a recreational smoker.
You’re not the cops, are you? You sure? Is this email being traced? I hope not.
Anyway, I’m writing about your search for a marijuana reviewer.
First of all, I want to assure you that I am not interested in this job.
I am an upstanding member of this community who is revered by all — OK, maybe 15 percent of all — and I wouldn’t want to jeopardize the future of my career by moonlighting as a modestly-paid stoner.
Lots of people who read me already tell me “You must be high,” so I don’t want to give them any more ammunition than they already have.
Plus, I don’t like gummy candies, and the natural state of my lungs is verklempt, even without smoking.
That being said, I just have a teeny question.
So how big is this box of marijuana you send to your reviewer each month? Just curious. Nothing but curiosity.
I mean, are we talking the size of a Big Mac box, or the size of one of those 12-roll Bounty paper towel packages from Costco?
I guess what I’m getting at is whether after all the testing and sampling is done there will be enough leftover product to sell … er, um … I mean to share with friends? It’s the holiday season, after all.
Once again, not for me. Asking for a friend.
Yes, in case you’re wondering, I would technically be eligible for the job because I live in Florida, which legalized medical marijuana in 2016.
And sure, I do have far more writing experience than just about all the other applicants you’re bound to receive. Not that I’m a candidate.
I am not applying for the job, because I am high on life. And sometimes charcuterie.
And so while I do have an excellent vocabulary and it is well within my verbal arsenal to deploy such descriptive terms as “woody”, “sublime”, “diesely”, “coma-inducing,” “piney,” and “boggy with grace notes of berry sweetness,” I am not interested in writing about dank buds.
You need somebody who knows his dab mats, from his ice waxes, to his jelly hash to his quartz bangers.
I’m just a humble wordsmith in good health with a very secure mailbox.
Also, I don’t have a marijuana card. At least not yet. Not that they’re hard to get.
Did I mention that I talk in my sleep? I hear it’s very bad. That’s what people are telling me, as Donald Trump would say.
My wife told me the other night, I said a bunch of things. On another night, I knocked a heavy lamp off a bedside table.
I may have to lay off the late-night charcuterie. It may just be that I’m anxiety-free on the outside, but suffering from untreated subconscious anxiety.
Since Florida legalized medical marijuana, the state has seen an enormous outbreak of herbally treated chronic anxiety, the kind that appears to usually strike young adults in otherwise perfect health.
Oh, it’s so sad to see so many young people taking time out from drinking on Clematis Street in West Palm Beach to stop by one of the growing number of marijuana dispensaries there.
The debilitating anxiety weighs heavy in the air. Probably because they wish they had a local person writing competent reviews of the products inside.
Well, it won’t be me. I’m not interested. And I’m too busy lamp shopping.
Teeny second question: While I was tasting a pinot noir the other night that had a toasty charcoal underpinning with a subtle citrus finish, I was thinking about your marijuana reviewer job, and wondering:
Is there a stipend for snacks?
This story originally published to palmbeachpost.com, and was shared to other Florida newspapers in the new Gannett Media network.