Monday Munchies: Lowell Cafe!

Lowell Cafe

My day began with the familiar scent of urine and mouse sex that only train passengers can relate to. While I sat there, basking in the sunlight and trying to hide from my peers, I attempted to operate the Linx brand vaporizer I was recently sent. If the environmental impact of disposable cartridges has you concerned about your smoking habits then Linx’s newest reusable atomizer is the perfect solution. Disposable cartridges are usually made with tons of different components that make them extremely hard to recycle, but one Linx Hermes 3 cartridge removes a handful of disposable cartridges from our oceans and landfills, which means less waste and an easier way to get lifted in public. By the time my 10:30 northbound train arrived, I was feeling 50 pounds lighter and eager to explore yet another part of Los Angeles, but we’ll get to that in a minute.

Lowell Cafe opened its West Hollywood doors to the public in the beginning of October. The cafe, which allows for open consumption of cannabis in a chic patio setting, boasts an impressive menu featuring cannabis products from top manufacturers in California alongside a smorgasbord of dining options and coffees for whenever the inevitable munchies kick in. After several weeks of me missing out on experiencing a true “stoners paradise,” I had decided I’d had enough of seeing my Instagram feed full of people enjoying the cafe without me so that day seemed as good a time as any to get higher than Donald Trump’s hairline in a wind tunnel and see what all the fuss is about.

After a full day of eating, drinking and buying everything in my path, the Red Line train I had chosen as my chauffeur was pulling up to the Hollywood/Hyland stop. I was busy focusing on breathing through my mouth to avoid the putrid combination of hobo farts and stale air when I started to get worried. At 34, most of my close friends either don’t smoke or if they do, it’s reserved for special occasions like when a new movie comes out or if they’re on vacation. Trying to find someone to be the Samwise to my Frodo on an epic quest to get baked off our butts ended up being a dead-end which meant that I was going to have to experience the cafe alone. As I made my way off the train and ducked down a side street, I knew I was about to take my cannabis smoking to an entirely new level. I just wish one of my idiot friends would have been there to witness it.

You could almost miss the café’s subtle entrance if it wasn’t for the not so subtle cloud of smoke emanating from the patio. I was able to secure a last minute spot at the bar with only a brief wait, and after browsing the menu and wishing that literally any of my friends would have been cool enough to join me, I decided that renting a gravity bong was the only way I could celebrate the end of cannabis prohibition. Who knows? Maybe I’d even make a new friend along the way that enjoys my favorite plant as much as I do.

The Glazed Apricot Gelato strain from the Cure Co. I selected smelled like a tangy birthday cake frosted in glistening trichomes and bright, orange hairs. I grabbed a grinder that the cafe provided and tried to look like an experienced smoker while surrounded by a sea of spectators in the crowded room. For anyone that has been to a party in high school, a gravity bong is a familiar sight, but for those of you who had parental supervision, a gravity bong uses two chambers, some water, and, well, gravity to shotgun a cloud of smoke into the depths of your lungs that will leave you comatose for hours. I hit that gravity bong about a dozen times before I had my fill, which resulted in me being the highest I’d ever been in my life.

I left the cafe after an hour of silently watching the diverse crowd of patrons doing something that would have caused them jail time only a decade earlier. While witnessing a historical shift in history happening in real time all around me, I was buzzed beyond belief and in desperate need of my bed. Unfortunately, two trains and about 30 miles stood between me and my destination, which meant that I was going to need some eye drops and some caffeine. Every step felt like a mile as I walked down Hollywood’s infamous boulevard, but the memory of my warm apartment was the only motivation I needed to keep trudging along. I was about 45 minutes into my hike when I spied the welcoming sight of a Papa John’s Pizza that was still open. You can blame it on the dankness of the cafe’s weed selection or the mind-numbing effects felt from the combination of gravity and water, but a large buffalo chicken pizza seemed like the best idea at the time. I sat on a dirty curb outside of the pizzeria and demolished every spicy morsel of dough until I felt like I was going to die from over consumption.

I awoke the next day with a weed hangover that felt like I had run a marathon. Every muscle in my body ached and my head felt like a sack of bricks. Besides having the memory of a 90-year-old and a bank account that was mysteriously lighter, I had also incurred an unexpected injury due to my late-night snacking. In my stoney haste to eat an entire pizza, I had failed to let my dinner cool down, which resulted in the roof of my mouth suffering burns so bad that eating would be difficult for several days.

If you’re ever on the east side of West Hollywood, make sure you celebrate our newfound freedom by reserving a table at Lowell Cafe. Just make sure whatever food you choose to consume after hasn’t been cooked in the seventh circle of hell; your mouth will thank you. Happy smoking!

Lowell Cafe is at 1201 N. La Brea Ave., West Hollywood, (323) 975-7676;

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