In The Dining Room, The Conversation Turned, Inevitably, To The Subject Of The Times Columnist Maureen Dowd, Who, In 2014, Shortly After The First Licensed Cannabis Retailers Opened For Business, Travelled To Denver And Bought A Cannabis Chocolate Bar.

And you put it under the microscope and it’s full of webs and bugs and spiders, fecal matter, exoskeletons!” “Oh, yeah. There’s a lot more shit weed than there is high-quality cannabis.” The edible portion of the evening commenced. In the dining room, the conversation turned, inevitably, to the subject of the Times columnist Maureen Dowd, who, in 2014, shortly after the first licensed cannabis retailers opened for business, travelled to Denver and bought a cannabis chocolate bar. Back in her hotel room, she ate part of the bar, and then, when she felt nothing, ate some more. She described what happened next in that week’s column: I felt a scary shudder go through my body and brain. I barely made it from the desk to the bed, where I lay curled up in a hallucinatory state for the next eight hours. I was thirsty but couldn’t move to get water. Or even turn off the lights. I was panting and paranoid, sure that when the room-service waiter knocked and I didn’t answer, he’d call the police. . . .

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