If you refer someone who becomes a
problem, you lose your membership.
Marie was among the five original
Angels, and still works as a dispatcher.
Her parents think she works as a free-
lance writer. After college, Marie wait-
ed tables for 10 years. One of the things
she likes most about her current job:
“When you walk in that door, someone
is so happy to see you.”
Angels are there for their
clients, no matter the oc-
casion: “I just broke up
with my girlfriend, I need
a blunt, please come over,”
or “I want to celebrate!”
The customers are, by
and large, the gentry of
the city. “We’re like som-
meliers, helping people
choose,” Marie says. “‘If
you want something chill,
try this’.” She recalls a
woman in her 40s who
lives near the UN, buying
for an evening’s consump-
tion for her and her hus-
band after putting their baby to sleep.
Honey says I can go out on deliver-
ies. I meet Mylie at the drug den at noon.
She is from Jamaica, 33 years old, pleas-
ant, well educated. She likes that many
of the customers need marijuana for
medical issues, such as cancer or MS or
arthritis. The Angels will often throw in
a freebie for such customers. It makes
for “good karmic energy”, says Mylie.
Our first stop is in Tribeca. A young
man arrives at the front door just as we
do. “We’re here for John,” Mylie says.
“That’s my dad,” he replies.
We take the lift up and it opens di-
rectly onto a large loft. A man in his 60s
greets us and leads us into the TV room.
He says, “Show me the greenery.”
She lays out her wares, pulling out
various bags from the case. Mylie sug-
gests a strain called Candyland. “We’re
having a promotion today. With four
bags, you get a free caramel.” As he’s
considering what to buy, his wife walks
in and smiles at us. The wife and son
watch as the father purchases three
bags and pays Mylie $150 in US dollars.
The man is a famous
painter, I discover later.
We take the subway
uptown. According to
Marie, seven out of 10 cus-
tomers just want the pot.
“The other three – they
want to talk,” she says.
At the second stop, a
stunning blonde in her
late 20s opens the door to
a clean apartment. She’s a
new customer and is ten-
tative as she picks a bag
from Mylie’s inventory.
“How long will it last?
Can I keep it in the
fridge?” she asks.
“Oh yes. It’ll last for ... a long time.
Just put it in another ziplock bag.”
She buys four bags and gets a free
marijuana-laced caramel.
The third stop is at an office build-
ing, at the headquarters of a well-known
shoe designer. The customer asks me to
wait in the reception area while he takes
Mylie into a closet and buys his stuff.
The fourth stop is in a loft office in
the Bowery. Two Doberman puppies
rush out at us as soon as the lift opens.
Hip-hop is playing very loudly. A white
hipster picks up one of the dogs. Two
other guys stand nearby. The dogs are
barking up a frenzy. Mylie’s clearly
uncomfortable. The trio buys four bags.
It’s been a good run for Mylie so far.She’s made about $200, and her run is
not half over. “I have never made so
much money in my life,” she says in won-
der. In four months, she’s saved $8000.
“Something my mother always told me
was to be independent,” she says.
“There’s nothing I can’t do now.”A
fter Honey’s baby is born, I
visit her and her boyfriend.
Honey, looking happier
than I’ve ever seen her, tells
me that the baby is chilled out.
At the hospital, after the delivery,
Honey heard the nurses arguing outside
her room. “It’s only weed!” one said.
They came in and took the baby away
and put her in the NICU. A doctor had
reported Honey after they tested her
urine; her THC levels were the highest
they had come across that year.
Eventually they decided to let Hon-
ey keep the baby, as long as she went to
parenting classes, got tested for drugs
for two months and agreed to be subject
to random drug tests in the apartment
after that. So far, Child Protective Ser-
vices has come once and, of course,
Honey got rid of the mountain of weed
she’d been hiding in the baby’s room.
She hasn’t been smoking at all. “It’s not
so bad,” she allows. But it’s bad enough
that she’s going to move out of New York
soon, and whatever is left of the Angels
will be sold off. The business has been
attracting attention from rival drug
dealers. Honey suggests she’s decided to
retire to “spend time with the family”.
Honey holds her daughter tenderly.
“What are you gonna be when you
grow up? Are you gonna be a drug deal-
er?” she coos to the baby. Then she
laughs. “It’s all gonna be legal by the
time you grow up. So you’ll have to find
something else to do.”“We’re like the
sommeliers,
helping people
choose”Jennifer Aniston
likes to smoke “once
in a while”Justin Bieber is all for
the legalisation
of cannabisRihanna is the
reigning queen
of weedJustin Timberlake
says pot helps him
switch offMadonna has
admitted to smoking
in the pastWoody Harrelson
is a marijuana
legalisation activistHIGH IN HOLLYWOOD
These celebs love weed, and they don’t care who knows itmarieclaire.com.au 63SOCIETY