The best strain to fall in love with

It was the summer of 2018. I met Melissa through a queer dating account on Instagram that channeled the vibe of serious personals of the late ’80s. It has since evolved into an app called Lex, but back then you could submit a blurb about yourself and what you were looking for. It would be posted on the Personals Instagram account along with your name so gay beauties could contact you if they were interested.

“Looking for a really funny girl who kind of remembers what life was like before Amazon Prime,” Mel’s ad said. I was hooked.

We met at a piano bar on our first date and chatted for six hours over Peroni’s and French Fries. A few more dates confirmed the feeling: I was overwhelmed. I knew I was going to fall in love with her — the words “I love you” wrapped around my brain like confetti every time we hung out — but I couldn’t just say them out loud without sounding crazy.

Even by lesbian standards, two weeks were way too fast. I had to wait at least a month before I could tell her. The only problem was I had this irrational fear that I would die before I got the chance. What if I get hit by a bus or choke on a walnut? I skimmed the crosswalk a dozen times before stepping off the road and ate salads extra slowly. Any worldly activity became an immediate threat.

As Mel and I prepared to tour an art show near Koreatown, I rolled a joint of Sherbinskis Bacio Gelato to unwind. I needed to focus on art instead of having a freak accident cheat me of an opportunity to express my feelings towards the potential love of my life.

“That’s the good shit,” I told her.

And it really was. Bacio Gelato, also known as Gelato #41, is Sherbinskis’ popular cross between Sunset Sherbert and Thin Mint Cookies. This strain was a labor of love and legendary in the growing world, which is why I wanted to share it with someone I was beginning to fall in love with. As the content manager for a weed review website, I smoked a lot of hyped strains back then, but Bacio Gelato was the flower I saved for special occasions. With complex floral notes and a smooth hit that tasted like mint chocolate, she smoked like the Cadillac of all varieties.

The effects of Bacio Gelato were equally enjoyable for me. Every time I lit, the high started with a warm feeling radiating from my chest to my head and back to my toes. With my body in marshmallow mode, I was able to focus on clearing my mind. It always felt like the high was sweeping away the existential cobwebs in my brain, Marie Kondo-ing my neurotic thoughts so the stupid, absurd thoughts could cycle around unencumbered. Smoking Bacio Gelato was like waking up on the right side of the bed. The high managed to walk that fine line between me, to help me feel different and better, but also to be more like myself.

So you can probably understand why I reached for it that afternoon when Mel and I were on our museum date. I wanted Mel to see me as cool and capable, if not a connoisseur of fine art then a collector of high experience. What I didn’t know at the time was that even though weed wasn’t her drug of choice, she also wanted to look cool. If my THC tolerance is at sea level, hers is at the bottom of the Mariana Trench.

We hot-boxed my Prius in the museum parking lot and drove way too high. I began to realize that my plan was going to backfire as the joyful clarity of mind set in and I felt more aware than ever that Mel was my favorite person. The dark side of my personality was nowhere to be found to mitigate the situation. So instead of feeling a manageable level of joy, it was a joy spill. Is my body physically able to process so many positive emotions? Nice aggression is real, should I be worried about eating Mel? Amused but a little worried. There was my mind.

And Mel was right there with me — times about 1000. We went from giggling and talkative to stiff and reserved, like we were in some 420-friendly Jane Austen retaliation.

“Shall we go to our appointment?”

“Yes, excellent.”

Smoke was billowing out of my car as we got out with our sunglasses on. As soon as we entered the building, I did what any super stoned person would do and headed straight for the massive light show. From the safety of the dimly lit room, we watched as some slowly moving geometric shapes floated around us. We let our highs down a bit, and before long we were able to hold hands without feeling like sparks could literally fly and burn the whole place down.

Since then, Mel and I have married and switched to high-CBD pre-rolls, but I’ll never forget how humbled we were by this Bacio Gelato joint. We smoked to appear cooler, to isolate ourselves from our ultra-raw, ultra-fresh feelings. But the Bacio Gelato was like, “Lol, guess what?” We were more exposed, less able to hide our feelings, and ultimately closer. I might just suggest that Sherbinskis put a warning label on their quavers in the future. Something like, “Be warned, this strain can make you fall in love faster.”