The Chicken Shack had been down on the corner for as long as I could remember. We had a lot of fast food chains around, but my parents always preferred the Chicken Shack. When they closed down, my dad was so mad. He had been going there for over twenty years, and had developed a personal friendship with the owner. He complained about it for a few weeks, and eventually got over it and moved on. And then it happened – as mad as the old man had been when the Chicken Shack closed, he was furious when they reopened it as a cannabis dispensary. They even kept the old sign, but modified it to say the Cannabis Shack, which my dad took as a personal affront for some reason. At this point I was almost 18, and having a cannabis dispensary nearby sounded awesome to me, even if I didn’t have access to it yet. Dad was raised in a time when cannabis was demonized, so the fact that a legit business was selling pot made him livid. We had some talks about it, with me explaining the facts of how cannabis has medicinal properties, but was outlawed thanks to the tobacco industry not wanting competition. Dad was resistant to all the historical facts, set in his ways and convinced that marijuana was a tool of the devil, and now it had taken over the Chicken Shack. Time went on, but Dad managed to stay salty about the cannabis dispensary for the rest of his life, god rest his soul.