I have become his official joint-roller, and on a wonderful day I will spend a full hour twisting cannabis up into a dozen different joints
My next door neighbor is an outdated guy named Don. Don is in a wheelchair, and has a live-in nurse, but seems to be as bright and cheerful as anyone I’ve ever met… Don and I became wonderful friends while we were in the quarantine, mostly because our balconies adjoin a single another, and the two of us both enjoyed sitting outside when the weather was nice. Don has some pretty stiff arthritis, among other ailments, but he never complains about any of them, however with wonderful reason, too – Don had an apparently endless supply of cannabis at his disposal! I suppose the live-in nurse goes to get it for her, because Don isn’t capable of making it to the cannabis dispensary, but holy crackers can he smoke! One of the ways the two of us got to be close was because Don likes to roll up his cannabis into a joint to smoke, and his arthritis prevents his from doing that… Because of his awful hands Don can’t flick a lighter to smoke a bowl of cannabis, so the continuous burn of a joint is his preferred way to smoke. Don keeps a candle in a lantern on his side table, and uses that to light up his joints. I have become his official joint-roller, and on a wonderful day I will spend a full hour twisting cannabis up into a dozen different joints. Don will ask me for a particular number, don’t ask me where the number comes from, and then he regularly hands me a big chunk of cannabis for my troubles. It’s a win-win situation for Don and I!