It was several weeks of searching online before we found a job worth a damn in Oregon. I found it on Craigslist, of all places. The title was somewhat misleading as he said he was looking for trimmers, although the ad further explained he was interested in concentrate makers as well as seasonal help in the future. It also mentioned that younger women interested in dating successful older men would be considered above all other applicants. We knew from the start that this would be an interesting experience, and it was the whole way through.
We were told by many people that getting a job in the cannabis industry in Oregon was easy. Just show up with scissors and you'll get the picked up, hauled off to a farm in the hills to trim Oregon's finest for weeks on end. This wasn't the reality from what we found, you basically had to know people to get jobs. If you didn't know anyone, you weren't getting a job. The season was pretty much done as far as trimming was concerned, so finding that job post on Craigslist about trimmers did seem a little weird. I responded anyway, we were desperate for work.
I sent him an email outlining our relevant skills, everything from farming to trimming to extracting. We got a response a day or so later letting us know trimming was done (as we suspected) but he was interested in the concentrate skills. He asked for further information on that, which seemed like it was going to end in a dab or hash making job at the very least.
We corresponded about fees and some questions he had about dabs, finally ending in him asking to meet in person, to further talk about the possibility of processing his trimmings. The only snag was, he wanted us to meet him in Eugene, which was a three hour drive. We were stranded with no vehicle, and we knew that R would not drive us to Eugene for that. He'd drive us to Roseburg, and that's probably it.
We raised our concerns with the travel situation and he agreed to meet us halfway. We set the date for the Sunday after Thanksgiving for the parking lot of Home Depot, no joke. At that point, cannabis was fully legal in Oregon, so what we were doing wasn't actually illegal. I was paying attention to people in the parking lot, none of them were really paying attention to us, or what we were doing.
We celebrated Thanksgiving with the family at the property where we were staying. I made a good portion of the food, which everyone loved. It was a big meal with a lot of people. The best part was when R, going into the bathroom to wash his hands, scared the shit out of a sleeping Rebel Dog, who got very vocal about being woken up in such a manner. Everyone laughed, as they all know how vocal and downright whiny my dog is.
Sunday came around and we headed out. We were late and we didn't have our own phone to contact him, so we received several annoyed emails while he was waiting that we came back to when we got back to the property later that day. We pulled into the parking lot and called him from R's phone, and he drove over in his Hummer after he spotted us. The guy was average height, chubby and middle aged. With him, was his chubby hippy friend, who I'll just call Nora. He introduced her as his weed expert.
We had samples of our own dabs that we brought with us, to show what John can do. They were both immediately impressed with the quality. I packed some into a pen for her to try, and she confirmed it was the quality they were looking for. We got to discussing the job, and he said he had a bag of Blue Dreams trimmings for us to do a test run with, to see if the yield would be worth the cost. When we discuss our fee, it's generally involving two different fees, one where we provide the butane and one where we don't. He wanted us to provide the butane, so we told him it would take a little time to get the money to do that. He immediately offered to buy the butane then, if we could direct him to a place to do it.
R knew of a smoke shop around the corner, that he knew sold butane. He drove us there, with our new possible boss following in his Hummer. When we got there, he made for the counter, to inquire about prices. He already had the calculator app open on his smart phone, ready to do math. He ended up buying a master case, which is a case of cases. It had 96 cans of High Quality 9x Filtered Butane, 8 cases total.
We were impressed as how he handled the interaction. I noticed when he gave us the trim, that he had old plates from the east coast. That made sense as he rushed to the counter with his calculator app, this guy was east coast trying to get rich off the weed scene on the west coast. It comforted us in a way, as we knew that this would ensure us a job, most likely. He knew we had traveled from Detroit to Oregon to be stranded without work, although we never told him we were on the run.
He didn't give us that whole master case, he actually gave us exactly what we would need to be able to process the amount of trim he gave us. It was a risk sending strangers off with what he was, so we understood. He didn't know if we were going to come back to him or not, it was a test if anything, both for quality and to see if he'd see us again. We had no intentions of running off with his dabs, as that meant we wouldn't be able to make more for him.
We parted ways and went home, hyped at the fact that we had a job, even if this was the end of it. He could always decide he didn't want to continue if he felt the numbers didn't make sense, so we were excited but realistic about the situation. Worst case scenario, we have more dabs for awhile. Best case scenario, we've found our way to work to get off that property and on the way to Acapulco. Until next time.