Marijuana dispensaries are not some place I care to be in. My Dad called me one afternoon and asked me if I was going to be tied up on Thursday, however she knew Thursday was my afternoon off, and if she called, she needed a ride some place. Dad seldom called just to talk. She wasn’t a cellphone person, years ago, she had to provide up driving because she couldn’t see well enough. I didn’t mind driving her around when dad was at work, although I asked if she would check with me a couple of afternoons ahead of time. I didn’t want to make plans if Dad was going to need me. She asked if I would take her to the marijuana dispensary to get her pain medicine. I hated the marijuana dispensary. The smell consistently turns my stomach. The first time I took Dad there, I walked into the marijuana dispensary with her, and walked right back out. The smell made me so nauseous that I thought I was going to throw up on the floor. Dad rushed out to make sure I was okay. I told her I was fine, although I couldn’t sit the smell. This time, she promised I would not need to get out of the car. She put an order in online, and the marijuana dispensary would bring it to the window so we didn’t have to get out of the car. Dad was consistently thinking ahead, and this was perfect for me. I didn’t mind that she used medical marijuana, although I just hated going to the marijuana dispensary.