The Mile High Club: A Denver comedian speedruns the pros & cons of pot legalization’s cultural adjustments

Art by Cassondra Jones

As part of acclimating to a new legalized pot version of KC, we asked stand-up comedian Adam Cayton-Holland from Denver to tell us what he’s learned from watching his city do this for a decade.

Hello, Kansas City! It’s your boy Adam Cayton-Holland here.

First and foremost, congrats on your most recent Super Bowl win! As a Denver Broncos fan, may I just say how stultifying it has been to watch this Chiefs Empire emerge—just a cold shower on an endless winter morning. But, as a Broncos fan, may I also say that we beat you last October for the first time since 2015. Straws, sure, but at this point it’s just nice to have something to grasp at.

Jocular ribbing out of the way, a little bird tells me that you guys are making the move to full-on legalized pot. Good for you! Now I know this transition can seem scary at first, and in certain circles hysteria may reign.

“Will my city become a drug city?! Like Amsterdam?! With its gorgeous architecture and world-class art museums?! The horror!”

But I’m writing to you today to let you know that everything is going to be fine. I should know. Denver born and raised, I witnessed firsthand my city’s launch into legalized weed.

It was 2014, the Broncos were regularly beating the Chiefs, and we were the first American city to open up shop. Like you, we had gone through the baby step of medical marijuana, but now the door was wide open, and it seemed like the entire world was waltzing through it. Every pot shop had lines around the block those first few weeks, accompanied by nearly equally long lines of media. Denver was suddenly everywhere. There we were on the BBC! There was Denver in The Japan Times! Check it out! Al Roker’s ripping a bong with some crust punk kids for GMA!

The circus had come to Denver, and many feared that the circus was here to stay.

I wanted to see what all the fuss was about. So I traipsed down to a dilapidated warehouse district that is now full of condos I can’t afford, stood in line for an hour, and entered Wonka’s factory.

It was stuffed to the brim with products I had never seen before, indeed, never even dared to imagine. Pre-rolls of every strain, a Vegas buffet of edibles—Olive oils?! Honey?! CBD! THC! OMG!—there were creams, balms, tinctures, ointments, all of it so slickly packaged. And the store was so clean! And well-lit! I was used to Grateful Dead flags and incense; a shitty bass player in tie-dye asleep at the register. This was so professional—like a corporate coffee shop staffed entirely by kids who know how to fix your phone.

I bought a pre-roll, then walked back out into the Mile High City and went about my life. Here’s the kicker: so did everyone else. After the initial blast of hysteria, Denver just settled in. Legal pot became normal, the status quo.

I do recognize that this laissez-faire mindset comes from the benefit of time, and experience. So allow me to walk you through some of the benefits and pitfalls you can expect in the coming years.

Pot shop names. They’re going to be so dumb. Just the worst puns imaginable, with terrible fonts and lazy graphics. Kansas Sticky. KC Keefs. If you can think of it, someone else will brand it with a pot leaf. Try to patronize ones that have the word “relief” in the title. Reward the ones that are at least trying to be professional. Hopefully, in turn, they’ll reward you by not blasting EDM.

Adam Clayton-Holland // Photo by Nick Holmby

Every dipshit who sold drugs in high school is going to get into the pot game. They’re going to call themselves ganja-preneurs and they’re going to refer to marijuana as flower and you’re going to want to roll your eyes so hard they fall out of your head. I remember when you poisoned all those people with shitty ecstasy in 2011, Ethan! Now I’m supposed to accept you as some legitimate businessman?! Just grin and bear it.

If you’ve been squirreling money away for your kid’s college funds, stop. Right now. Take it out and buy a warehouse. That warehouse will eventually be more valuable than any education. You’re reading this like, Pshaw! I wish! The secret is out on Kansas City; no one can afford a warehouse, even in the worst neighborhoods! You’re wrong. You think it’s expensive now? Check back in ten years. Grow-space is everything; every part of Denver that was once stabby is now full of grow-houses and utterly frivolous commerce and e-scooters and beautiful idiots, vaping. Had my dad foregone my college fund to buy me a warehouse, I wouldn’t have to write ridiculous 101 drug screeds in The Pitch. I would just sit atop my warehouse, mopping sweat from my brow with crisp hundos.

From now on, and forever more, if you walk into a room and there are cookies and brownies, ask, “Do these have pot in them?” Because there is always a chance now. Always. To be on the wrong side of that equation, even once, is to stare into the Gaping Maw of Hell Itself.

Edible consistency is Chaos Theory. Just because things look slick and professional, doesn’t mean every bake is a swish. Sometimes half of the candy has, oh I don’t know, hardly any pot at all, while the second half has, oh, let’s just say all the pot ever. So you have a little nibble, feel nothing, and decide to eat the whole bar. Then you talk to God for thirteen hours. Fine if that’s what you’re going far. Not so fine if you and God aren’t on the best of terms.

You’re going to have to talk to your parents about pot. It’s going to be everywhere. All their friends on the city’s various slow walking routes are going to be buzzing about it, so best to head that one off at the pass. But in a lot of ways, this is the most beautiful part. Easy pot jokes aside, we all know the benefits marijuana can have for people suffering from pain, from mild to chronic to end-of-life. And rather than blasting our loved ones with pills and chemicals, there is real, natural relief to be had here. I remember my mother curiously asking me about my experience buying pot back in those early days. She wondered if it could help her with her chronic back pain. I told her it couldn’t hurt. So, she tried it. And tried it again. And tweaked the formula. Learned what was right for her. And now she uses it, occasionally. When the pain gets to be too much. It’s there when she needs it, as normal as ibuprofen in a bathroom drawer. And while it’s more attention-grabbing talk about wild products and tales of pot excess, the truth of the matter is millions of people are getting real relief from marijuana, from popping a gummy after the kids go to bed to reduce anxiety, to easing the effects of your chemo. It’s effective, and it’s here to stay, and there is absolutely nothing wrong with it. So, get over it.

I hope this helps you wrap your head around what you are about to face, Kansas City. It may seem like a lot now, but I can’t stress enough how normal this will all become. Here in Denver, ten years post-legalization, no one really talks about legal pot anymore. Frankly, we’ve grown bored with it. We’re onto psilocybin now. Mushroom Time, baby! We micro-dose in our tea, slam little pieces of mushroom chocolate. And, sure, it’s kind of annoying talking with your neighbor Jason about his journey at an outdoor botanic gardens concert before his eyes glaze over and he just stares into his YETI full of IPA for a good hour and a half; but Jason used to punch walls in the garage, man. Isn’t this better? I mean what else are we going to talk about? The Broncos suck.