A West Hastings memory from the days when cannabis culture lived behind a cloudy door
I met a woman in a Vancouver cannabis smoking facility, one of my favorite haunts in 2010 — a little storefront on West Hastings with more infamy than square footage. More on that in a moment. She came through the smoke‑heavy doorway, settled onto a stool, and began rolling a joint with the kind of calm that only comes from long practice.
