Well, I was a single working mom with a smart son who had his heart set on going to a fancy East Coast college. I promised him that if he could get in, we could pay for it. An old hippie friend of mine was a small-time [marijuana] farmer, and I love to garden, so it made sense to get into the business.
Aw, what a good mom! You started growing pot to fulfill your son's childhood dreams! I can relate—my mom dated a series of real-estate agents to fulfill my childhood dream of living in a house with a pool.
She sounds like a lovely woman.
She's all right. I mean, she refused to date a pool boy, so I had to clean that damn thing every summer. Did you have any moral conflicts with becoming a marijuana saleswoman?
You know, at first I did. I had a teenage son, and parents are rather indoctrinated with anti-marijuana propaganda through school and the news as much as their children are. At first, I worried that my son would become a drug addict because of me, or his friends would. That was my biggest fear: having a fellow mom on my doorstep, crying, because she caught her son or daughter smoking my weed and traced it back to me somehow. That I would become the gateway to some kid dying in an alley with a needle in his arm.