A few blocks away from my childhood home was a festive little cantina called Tuesday Tacos. It had been there for over forty years, and was one of the oldest restaurants in the entire city. My mom always pointed it out when we drove past, saying she had worked there. Her very first job as a teenager was waiting tables at the taco bar. When I was old enough, my mom suggested that I apply for a job there, saying I would be a shoe-in because of family history. When I did go in to apply, I was informed that Tuesday Tacos was closing, and would be replaced with a cannabis dispensary in a few weeks. Not one to be easily dissuaded from my first job, I applied at the cannabis dispensary instead! I was pretty stoked about it, but after I got home my parents were furious, both at the fact that a cannabis dispensary was replacing the taco place, and that I had applied to work there. They made it sound like I wanted to be a drug dealer, but all I did was apply for work at a 100% legal cannabis shop. I wouldn’t be loitering in a back alley selling dime bags of cannabis, I would be essentially working in a pharmacy. They didn’t see it that way at all, and forbade me from working at the cannabis dispensary. As it turns out I didn’t get the job, because I wasn’t old enough for cannabis dispensary work, but I wish I had gotten it, if only to make them mad.