No one at How to Get Rid of Weed Smell would ever advocate illegal activities. Yet, with so many jurisdictions in the United States with decriminalized weed laws, whether due to medical or recreational concerns, there remains relevant the question of how best to remove that distinctive pot odor. It's just good manners.
A dinner invitation to your employer, a next door neighbor, or your in-laws, shouldn't be an aromatically awkward occasion. It doesn't matter if it's legal; some people just remain uncomfortable, for whatever reason, with marijuana smoking. At that point, the choices are trying to change other people's values and preferences to your own - an undertaking equally as notable for its futility as for its vanity - or you can just exercise a little discretion.
My rule of thumb is, if it happens in personal space it can quite nicely just stay in personal space. That is kind of the whole point of personal space, isn't it?
Ironically though upon reflection, it turns out that even those who now show acute conscientiousness over this kind of aromatic discretion had our own first experience of such concerns in somewhat less pristine circumstances. A story from my own youth might illustrate the point. Certainly in the time and place I grew up there was no mistaking pot as legal. Funnily, however, though it was if anything even more culturally taboo than today, I can't help remembering it as being somehow a more innocent time, when it came to pot.
In any event, this story begins with my parents being away for a few days. My girlfriend at the time, the dishy (and otherwise amazing) Kimberley, was sort of staying with me in the parents' absence and my pal, the more or less perpetually pot addled Dave, had dropped by. We were hanging out in the living room, which was one of those icons of the mid to late 20th century, where the furniture was all covered in fitted plastic. It had a bit of a space station feel to it. Weirdly, for a while there, this was a popular choice for living room decor. The antiseptic look, you might call it.
Alas, despite my best efforts, I digress. Well, there we are, the three of us, having only just recently imbibed from Dave's perpetual stash, splayed in our teenage languish over the plastic furniture. Then, horror of horrors, the distinctive sound of keys prodding at the front door lock shocked us out of our reveries. Well, all but Dave, in a state of infinite reverie, I expect. Even I though, taken off guard, was rather dazed and confused. Good old Kimmy, though, was her usual rockstar in action. Like a coiled cat she sprung from the couch and dashed the length of the living room, like some kind of crazy wizard, her arms flayed about with mystical speed, throwing open all the living room windows. She then flew like the wind back across the room, where, in a death-defying flourish, in one fell sweep, she scooped up Dave's various weed paraphernalia off the coffee table, proceeding to stick it inside his jacket.
Now, I'm not sure about this part, but I seem to recall that she then darted to the other end of the room and proceeded to exhale great gusts of blown air across the living room, sweeping the lingering weed odor out the gaping windows. Well, believe it or not, by the time the parents had made their way to the living room the three of us were standing in a row, with slightly improbable grins, something like the service staff of a mansion waiting to greet the new lady of the house upon her arrival.
I have no reason to think for a moment that my parents would have been cool about us smoking pot. It is true, I'm pretty sure, they never had and maybe the smell wasn't as familiar to as many people as it is today. But one way or another nothing of any great important came of it. They seemed mostly annoyed at the prospect of us spreading our shabby carcasses across their plastic covered furniture. So, I don't know if they just didn't recognize the weed odor or if really-truly Kimmy, with her amazing girlfriend superpowers, did do something quasi-magic to instantly dispel the odor.
However, it's unlikely that you know Kimmy (but if you do, drop me a line and let me know, I'd love to catch up with her again), so in all likelihood you are going to need less magical means for weed odor abatement. That's why we're here at How to Get Rid of Weed Smell. We've got the lowdown for you on the gold standard of aromatic discretion.
A dinner invitation to your employer, a next door neighbor, or your in-laws, shouldn't be an aromatically awkward occasion. It doesn't matter if it's legal; some people just remain uncomfortable, for whatever reason, with marijuana smoking. At that point, the choices are trying to change other people's values and preferences to your own - an undertaking equally as notable for its futility as for its vanity - or you can just exercise a little discretion.
My rule of thumb is, if it happens in personal space it can quite nicely just stay in personal space. That is kind of the whole point of personal space, isn't it?
Ironically though upon reflection, it turns out that even those who now show acute conscientiousness over this kind of aromatic discretion had our own first experience of such concerns in somewhat less pristine circumstances. A story from my own youth might illustrate the point. Certainly in the time and place I grew up there was no mistaking pot as legal. Funnily, however, though it was if anything even more culturally taboo than today, I can't help remembering it as being somehow a more innocent time, when it came to pot.
In any event, this story begins with my parents being away for a few days. My girlfriend at the time, the dishy (and otherwise amazing) Kimberley, was sort of staying with me in the parents' absence and my pal, the more or less perpetually pot addled Dave, had dropped by. We were hanging out in the living room, which was one of those icons of the mid to late 20th century, where the furniture was all covered in fitted plastic. It had a bit of a space station feel to it. Weirdly, for a while there, this was a popular choice for living room decor. The antiseptic look, you might call it.
Alas, despite my best efforts, I digress. Well, there we are, the three of us, having only just recently imbibed from Dave's perpetual stash, splayed in our teenage languish over the plastic furniture. Then, horror of horrors, the distinctive sound of keys prodding at the front door lock shocked us out of our reveries. Well, all but Dave, in a state of infinite reverie, I expect. Even I though, taken off guard, was rather dazed and confused. Good old Kimmy, though, was her usual rockstar in action. Like a coiled cat she sprung from the couch and dashed the length of the living room, like some kind of crazy wizard, her arms flayed about with mystical speed, throwing open all the living room windows. She then flew like the wind back across the room, where, in a death-defying flourish, in one fell sweep, she scooped up Dave's various weed paraphernalia off the coffee table, proceeding to stick it inside his jacket.
Now, I'm not sure about this part, but I seem to recall that she then darted to the other end of the room and proceeded to exhale great gusts of blown air across the living room, sweeping the lingering weed odor out the gaping windows. Well, believe it or not, by the time the parents had made their way to the living room the three of us were standing in a row, with slightly improbable grins, something like the service staff of a mansion waiting to greet the new lady of the house upon her arrival.
I have no reason to think for a moment that my parents would have been cool about us smoking pot. It is true, I'm pretty sure, they never had and maybe the smell wasn't as familiar to as many people as it is today. But one way or another nothing of any great important came of it. They seemed mostly annoyed at the prospect of us spreading our shabby carcasses across their plastic covered furniture. So, I don't know if they just didn't recognize the weed odor or if really-truly Kimmy, with her amazing girlfriend superpowers, did do something quasi-magic to instantly dispel the odor.
However, it's unlikely that you know Kimmy (but if you do, drop me a line and let me know, I'd love to catch up with her again), so in all likelihood you are going to need less magical means for weed odor abatement. That's why we're here at How to Get Rid of Weed Smell. We've got the lowdown for you on the gold standard of aromatic discretion.
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