I recently performed at a cannabis club, and if you’ve never been to one of these, I highly recommend watching the 1930s cinematic classic REEFER MADNESS, because that’s where I told jokes recently.
Upon entering, I did what I always do, and went straight to the back, to check in with the show’s producer, who told me to check in with the doorman. I politely replied, “What doorman?” To which he replied, “Walter,” as he pointed to the dab bar.
It took me a moment to process that Walter, the doorman, was also the large man finishing a bong rip at the end of the bar. All the same, I checked in with Walter, once he finished coughing, and then, I noticed one of the dab tenders wearing a GoPro, which made me extremely uncomfortable, until I realized she was the security camera. So, if you’re keeping tabs, the entire security for this club specializing in copious amounts of a substance more valuable per ounce than gold was Walter, the meandering doorman, and a hipster with a GoPro, which gave me an idea…
We need a new level of prison security: stoner level. You can leave all the doors wide open and ask the prisoners not to escape. Throw in some video games and you’re golden.