Read Part 6.

Now before I continue, I just want to call out something I notice frequently in cannabis, something which was present at Red and became an especially annoying recurring theme at Pink - where unqualified people tend to end up in positions they clearly shouldn’t be in. I don’t mean unqualified because of something like college education vs. work experience, no. I’m talking about the type of person who would rather watch the boat sink than ask for help bailing out the water. We have all worked with people like this who can’t delegate, but in less developed industries such as cannabis, this friction point greatly increases hardship, strain, and in turn - turnover (no pun intended). It is never worth it. 

These types of people usually appear “untouchable” despite their apparent shortcomings, and, in my experience, it appears to be as a result of a misplaced sense of loyalty from the top down rather than any basis on actual merit. Again, this kind of mindset was not possible for survival at Red (though it doesn’t mean it didn’t happen), and I don’t believe the company would have grown so much if it had been allowed to be, where it counts of course. You can’t be captain? That’s okay, but get out from behind the wheel. Can’t take the heat? Get out of the kitchen. Some pills are tough to swallow, but you still need them every once in a while. In the supply chain, it was always about solving the problem first - the ego came later. 

That being said - unsurprisingly, there were a few hurdles up front. Aren’t there always? Namely, construction ran behind and, oh yeah, a pandemic was beginning to unfold, followed by one of the greatest movements for civil rights in recent U.S. history. I remember the owner’s assistant and I were the only two employed so far, and met up at Blue Bottle (or wherever we could) until construction progressed enough to make the actual dispensary a habitable place to work. Our tasks were frequently realigned depending on how our boss was feeling that day, so the chicken scratch on the whiteboard became a frequent source of stress. 

Then there was the racism - yes, I used that word, and it won’t be the last time I mention it, either. Did I mention I once had to join in talking an owner out of sending “midget mariachi” to deliver gift bags to influencers? You heard it here first, folks! This would unfortunately be a consistent pain point contributing to the eventual toxic, micro-aggressive work environment. It angered me that my bosses failed to see the irony in even this “funny” behavior, as the country simultaneously engaged in discourse on racism daily at that time. 

On the labor side in these early stages of development, I had to keep track of my own hours and submit them each week, learning at first paycheck I was also expected to additionally justify (with annotated evidence) what I worked on and accomplished on each time entry. This was the first time I had ever had to do such a thing in my work experience, and it definitely was exhausting and unfair. Explaining to your employer why they should pay you for hours worked is a red flag, or in this case, it was a pink one. 

On one of the early paydays (as the pandemic-fueled fear became palpable outside), we had gathered in the home office of ownership where we were erratically advised to take out $3k from our accounts ASAP “just in case” the pandemic caused banking issues. This was extra funny to me at the time, because no one in the room but him could feasibly, comfortably execute on such an advisory. I fought the urge to ask for an advance to press the irony, but I didn’t; see, a lot of “tough” people in Cannabis (especially the ones who “have money”) can dish it seems, but never take. And this guy was definitely one of those. 

Paranoia and construction delays aside, we still set a goal for a soft opening to culminate into a hard opening day celebration on 4/20/2020. A billboard had been rented already months in advance during construction, hyping the rendering of the dispensary’s interior, which was not even close to being completed yet. Meanwhile, I was still in the process of recruiting the best people for key positions, but it was hard to negotiate (especially for budtenders) without more certainty. Thankfully, the overall insecurity of the job market at the onset of the pandemic lent me some extra leverage, and once I got my team together operationally, the store seemed closer to opening than ever. But it also seemed more and more clear that no one would be having a 4/20/2020. It is my sincere hope April 20th someday becomes a nationally recognized holiday for the USA, marking cannabis’ debutante moment of acceptance, to at least make up for this sacred moment, snatched away by fate. 

Our hard opening date looked even softer than soft in the thick of the George Floyd protests and marches occurring in Los Angeles, as it seemed almost pointless to plan to be open at all. The building itself relied so much on the dominant windows in the design to attract the consumer, but we had to board them up in response to ownership’s fears of “rioters looting.” I urged at the very least to write “BLM” on the plywood to show solidarity. Solidarity for security seemed like a fair trade to me for not much effort, I advised. No. I remember well that even then, despite my seething anger at the ignorance, he didn’t realize that his own employee he was talking to was one of those “rioters” marching the streets of Hollywood. I even took street medic classes despite a very real fear of blood. So, I tried again. 

I spun it like “solidarity means security, as in decreasing unknown labor costs of taking them down then putting them back up depending on the temperature of the city.” Still no. Okay. But why? Why did I feel the need to do that, to try and even re-spin it? Because I already knew the answer would be no. Because in truth, ownership simply did not care about black lives when it really came down to it, and there was no clear benefit for them to even pretend without a direct correlation to a product they could also sell. I was getting angrier. There is nothing fun about checking in with your friends taking turns/shifts marching to make sure they hadn’t been injured, arrested, or killed. There is nothing fun about being hired to do a job, then being fought tooth and nail to be able to do it. 

Nevertheless, we persisted, my team and I filling the white marble interior with premium brands, cool products, and varied flower - and exhausting all connections to get it done in abundance. Salary start-dates were also postponed with the delays in opening, something myself and those I did a lot to procure did not agree to, subsequently increasing alienation. Grateful to have a job at all in the hard times, I focused on training and cross-training staff, developing SOPs with other management, and discovering our customer base.

Speaking of customer bases, can I just say that people are the worst? Because we really are. I cannot describe to you enough just how much abuse dispensary customer service entails. It has nothing to do with where the “custy” comes from, how much money they have, or any of that. Sure, you get berated every now and then (I’ve worked in bars/food service), and Pink budtenders and management certainly did, and often. I saw people spit on budtenders. I saw people open containers to smell when there are clearly budpods for that. 

I used to keep a list in my bag of every ridiculous customer interaction, shocked by the sheer level of disrespect possible from strangers seeking a service, as well as acutely disappointed in the lack of correlation between location “aesthetic” and customer etiquette. Please don’t grope your budtender, please don’t consume your product within the store or the parking lot of the store, it’s not that hard. Please don’t wait for a budtender or manager to leave the store at night after their shift to harass them. I could go on and on. 

I soon began to notice another trend that would increase post-opening; a suggestion to solve a problem would be made based on an educated observation (which we were each hired to express), but it would only be shrugged off as a necessary evil, treated almost as if suggesting a solution is dramatic. For example: the suggestion that ownership authorize investment in light damage reduction via tasteful curtains, tinting windows or even on-brand canopies above flower tables! Anything to lessen light exposure and lengthen display life. It’s a simple problem, right? There are consistent negative effects - customers reporting bad flower on display (or worse, on the shelf), causing another 7g (of now not sellable flower) to be wasted out of inventory for a refreshment display (on top of the unsellable light-burned flower), whatever edible display melted, etc. Point being, the problem (and subsequent waste) persisted because nothing was done. The true definition of insanity is said to be trying the same thing again and again, all the while expecting a different outcome. More sun/heat damage was reported and increased profit loss due to continuously wasting inventory on short-term display refreshments and “sunburned” flower. Furthermore, why wouldn’t a business, in an industry where the returns process is not at all refined, take something like this more seriously? I just could NOT understand it. 

Similarly, when theft became an apparent issue, it was suggested ownership invest in more security via a detector at the door, reducing the amount of product on shelves at a time, or implementing a new customer limit (security/customer ratio) befitting realistic surveillance bandwidth. Again, nothing was done, so people continued to steal. See, it’s not that I had a problem hearing no, so much as it was the fact that “nothing” was the unofficial official standard. It also goes without saying, the license was not awarded based on an expectation for us to “do nothing.” It’s not just about running a “good business” and doing what you say you’ll do; it’s about making it easier for your people to do their jobs, so they can bring their best and confidently contribute every day.

That’s the only way to grow, and that is the way it was, in my experience, at big, bad Red. Problem solving, working smart instead of hard, listening to each other for the best strategy; these techniques were all the rage for increased productivity, profits, and market dominance! This is partly how Red grew up to be a public company so fast, because doing nothing was NEVER an option. I felt disappointed I couldn’t seem to repeat the keen enforcement of that aspect of Red - like I still wasn’t tough enough to fight constantly in order to make it right. I struggled with an immense guilt as I watched the work environment become more toxic over time. What did my title of co-founder even mean then? The imposter syndrome was real. To make matters worse, the owner’s assistant snarkily reported a negative view of the way customers were saying the store reminds them of a Red.  

By now it was clear my dream buyer detested his own assistant by now, and frequently butted heads with the owner’s assistant about it; who by this time had sort of appointed herself a GM (General Manager) and was not pleased, since the buying assistant in question had been her hire. In an effort to meet his own needs when the pettiness between them reached an all-time high, the buyer even tried to prematurely hire a new assistant (someone from my original team in supply chain at Red), further ruffling some feathers, no doubt about it. The struggle and subsequent stalemate between them ultimately made the buying assistant’s work life so miserable, she left. I never knew what to say to her when she would come to visit me at my desk in tears, I didn’t know how to help the situation at all, but one thing I do know is that I let her down. 

The buyer’s preferred replacement started, but the stress continued. You see, ownership, for example, would get a tour of a grow, get swept off their feet and order WAY TOO MUCH for our single location. I’m talking like seven cases of each strain…and there’s 12 strains. *Facepalm.* If you in any way want to own and/or operate a cannabis business, you need to not impulse buy, period. Always consult your buying team (who consults with inventory) before making a drastic choice like that, because it will affect everyone. 

Even the replacement proving helpful to both tension-filled parties couldn’t keep the situation from imploding, and so, as the owner’s assistant felt the buyer pushed her hire out, she soon pushed him out. Easy as spotting him on the cameras making a choking motion while discussing her during her absence from the room, as it turns out. With no choice but to promote the new buying assistant with little time to truly build his buy file processes, the office environment behind the scenes of this beautiful dispensary continued to rot. I know what you’re thinking: “Where’s HR in all of this?” 

“HR is a trashcan,” I remember the owner’s assistant saying, drawing a dry erase marker face on the glass wall just above a trash can with an arrow pointing into it, letting all know what to do with complaints and what they mean to the company. I found myself arguing so often against sending home workers at the last minute if it seemed slow for an hour, a practice that, I warned them, is not really legal nor sensible when the expectation is to intake products daily to maintain the advertised standard RTS (Ready to Sell) turnaround time of 24 hours. Cannabis had already been looped into the “essential business” category; I would be sure to reassure them of this in my pleas. There are so many business owners in cannabis like those who owned Pink, who seem to genuinely believe they can grow more without giving more, and it is literally crazy. The polar opposite was the issue at Red, which showed me how practicing some moderation from both strategies would make more sense. Easier said than done, I’m sure, but all the same.

Come back tomorrow for Part 8, where we get into the nitty gritty, the do’s and don’ts of dispensary management, and the real big monster of cannabis comes out - and it’s a… cookie monster?