People tend to take good service for granted, especially in the service industry. The unsung heroes who cook for us, make deliveries for us, and evade the police for us deserve a little recognition. I'm not talking about the high schooler at Jack in the Box who spits in our tacos before serving them to us, though he probably should be arrested.
(Deep down we know he spits in them, and we can't blame him. He's only taking social cues from from our actions, and what does actually buying those tacos say about us if not that we are human filth unworthy of respect or dignity?)
I'm of course talking about our local pot dealers. Their customer service is unmatched. I'm willing to bet that the supplement consultant at GNC has never asked any of us to stick around for "like, some Blacks Ops or whatever". In fact GNC makes us wander their aisles for tens of minutes in search of the herbs we want. Our local dealers deliver, and, unlike the pizza guy, they don't show up smelling like weed and feeling entitled to a tip.
The only bad thing we can say about our local dealers as a community is that it may be partially their fault we purchase spit tacos. Honestly folks, our dealers are on call 24 hours a day 420 days a year. That means they work weekends, holidays, and 55 other days I'm assuming they get credit for every successful year of dealing just as a rough estimate of future incarceration time. They miss family vacations, their middle child's dance recital, and even The Beatles Yellow Submarine marathons on AMC to be there for us when we need them. That kind of dedication deserves public (though preferably anonymous) recognition, and so I propose we create a new type of award for outstanding dealers. They deserve something of the highest order, something original, something totally dank. We should call it "The Grammy".
