Ganja Man

It's a beautiful Saturday here in Arizona with atypical cloudy skies and strong breezes. 

Wanting to take advantage of this gorgeous April weather, I cleaned up my old bike, pumped up her tires, and rode away through the streets of my little college town.

It was a wonderful ride, the kind that leaves your cheeks cold from the wind and your legs tired from pedaling. I was almost back to my apartment when it happened:

I got hit on by a man dressed as marijuana.

Arizona recently passed a law that legalized medical marijuana, you see, so weed-based businesses are popping up all over, particularly near the university. The man in question was one of those sign holders trying to attract business to a shop. This man, though, had so much more than a sign. He had a costume. His whole head was surrounded by plastic leaves.

The guy said "excuse me", and I pulled over. He rambled on for some time about how I was the kind of girl he likes and how we're both adults, despite our 12 year age difference. He wanted to know if I would see the new Bob Marley movie with him. He was disheartened to learn that I have a boyfriend.

He let me know that if my boyfriend messes up I should come find him; he's always on the corner and his name is "Ganja Man".