Chapter 9: Venice Beach

Now that I was selling weed and had a bit more money, I needed a decent bong.

When you are under the age of 18 it can be nearly impossible to purchase a bong. The smoke shops in the beach cities where I lived all asked for ID before they would sell you anything smoking related. It could be difficult to even buy a lighter sometimes. I did not have many friends who were over eighteen and willing to go into a smoke shop. Most of the bongs I had purchased were second hand from other stoners.

Legends told of a place along the coast, lined with smoke shops that never asked for ID. There were cheap hot dogs and delicious pizza slices, Freak show and street performers, and the air itself smelled like pungent weed smoke. That place was called Venice Beach.

Venice Beach Boardwalk was considered heaven to stoners in some regards. There were easily over 30 smoke shops. They were all desperate for business and competed with each other especially in the winter when tourism was slower.

If you did not like one price you could just walk over to the next place and use the last place's price as the base for your next negotiation. Many of the shops had the same if not similar products. There were a few gems scattered across the boardwalk with unique finds. Some shops that did their own custom designs. Even some places that tried to have the newest trends and innovations.

"I really want to get a new bong." I told Jason one day while we were hanging out in the garage.

"I have been thinking the same thing for myself. But nowhere local will sell a bong to us." Jason told me.

"We could always ride bikes or skateboards to Venice. Take on the legendary pilgrimage to Marijuana Mecca?" I replied.

"It's a long ride, have you ever done it before?" Jason asked.

"I have driven there before. Never traveled on foot or bike but I know you can take the strand all the way there." I told him.

Venice Beach Boardwalk was about 15 miles North from where I lived in Redondo Beach. There was a long sidewalk that traveled from the south edge of the beach in Redondo all the way to Venice and Santa Monica. You could literally ride your bike or skateboard on a mostly flat path that went along the ocean all the way to Venice. For most teenage slacker stoners this was a decent journey.

"Let's do it! We can borrow bikes from my uncle's shop!" Jason spoke up with excitement.

We each packed a backpack to carry our bongs home then Jason and I walked over to the bike shop in Hermosa Beach near the pier. Jason and I both borrowed brand-new beach cruiser bikes from his uncle's shop and headed down to the beach.

From Hermosa Pier we traveled North past million-dollar luxury homes and trophy wives working out in tight leggings. At the Manhattan Pier we went by the Round House Aquarium and then El Porto Surf spot. The ocean was filled with surfers floating atop their boards above the waves.

We stopped and sat in the rocks at El Porto to smoke a joint and watch the surfers while we took a break. We got back on our bikes and continued on our journey. Soon we went past Dockweiler Beach, home to the fire pits. Several pits built for bonfires were spread out across a mile stretch. The parking lot was filled with motor homes of all shapes and sizes.

We came to discover the path took a detour east going around the docks in Marina Del Rey after Dockweiler. It added an extra twenty minutes to the trip. The sidewalk went around boats and waterfront dining. Then through a small nature reserve. Once past the marshes you emerged on the main road leading to the Venice Boardwalk.

"We made it!" I said nearly exhausted.

Jason and I parked and locked our bikes at a spot near the entrance. Then we set off on foot. Despite being tired from the ride, we were excited at the prospect of being in Venice Beach with extra money to spend. We were like kids in a candy store. Or better yet, an outdoor candy mall.

I was already ready to spend money at the first shop we encountered. Jason talked me out of it.

"We should check out every shop and look for the best bongs for the best deal." Jason suggested.

"If you don't find something else you like we can always stop here on the way back." Jason added.

"OK." I agreed reluctantly.

A large crowd was formed around several men dressed in matching clothes doing backflips and other stunts. We stopped for a moment to watch. As soon as they finished, they aggressively asked for tips. Jason and I casually slipped away.

A man that looked like an elderly Jimi Hendrix wore roller skates and played an electric guitar while rolling around. People posed in front of expertly built sandcastles. Angry homeless people demanded change. The buildings were adorned with beautiful murals. And the air really did smell like weed.

Jason and I must have walked the entire boardwalk when we came to the last shop. It had a big sign that read "Smokin' Heaven". It looked like a clothing shop from the outside.

"I think this place is just a clothing shop. Let's get out here." I told Jason.

"Are you guys looking for the smoke shop?" an employee standing near the doorway asked us.

"Yeah." Jason replied.

"It's in the back past the clothes racks." the employee told us.

We waded through the clothing displays and found our way to the back of the shop. A bald white guy with a goatee stood behind the counter. The walls behind him were lined with bongs.

"Hey guys, my name is Larry." the man behind the counter said.

"What can I help you with?" Larry added.

"Hi I'm Jordan."

"I'm Jason."

"We are each looking for a new bong." I said.

"We want something nice." said Jason.

"You have come to the right place. We are Venice's best kept secret. We get all our glass straight from the glass blowers themselves. We skip the distributors and that allows us to not only give our customers the best prices but also offer unique pieces like no other shop on the boardwalk. Do you guys like glass on glass?" said Larry.

"What's glass on glass? We just smoke weed dude; we aren't into any crazy shit." I told him.

Larry laughed.

"No bro, glass on glass is the latest in bong technology. Forget the rubber grommet or metal pieces holding your down stem and bowl piece in your bong. We now have specialized, fitted joint systems on bongs where the removable bowl or down stem connects directly into the bong using ground, frosted glass. This precise grinding creates an airtight, friction-fit seal. It tastes better and hits harder. The bowl pieces are stronger and even customizable." Larry informed us.

Larry had us at latest in bong technology. The rest of the time we were just drooling. Larry showed us some of their newest additions from a man he called a "glass artist" named Jerome Baker. He showed us all the scientific looking bongs from brands like PHX and Roor. I had my eyes set on a 2 foot glass PHX beaker. Of course it had glass on glass. But it also had another new innovation called a percolator.

On the tube part of the bong was a second water chamber that provided additional filtration to the smoke, leading to a smoother hit.

Jason preferred something more artistic looking and went with the Jerome Baker or JBD for short. His bong was only about a foot tall and was adorned with glass clouds and trees. A single wart shaped like a mushroom protruded from the base of the tube.

When it came time to pay, Jason worked his magic.

"I see the price tag on our bongs are each $200 but we all know that is just bullshit to make customers feel like they got a good deal when you say a lower price. I am going to make this easy, I will give you $200 total for both bongs, out the door." Jason told Larry.

Larry thought about it for a minute. He looked at us with a careful calculated glance.

"$250 and I will give you both a bong bag as well." Larry countered.

"You have yourself a deal." Jason told him.

By the time we had finished up with Larry the sun was starting to set, and we were on the far side of Venice Boardwalk. Venice Boardwalk is a great place to visit during the day, but the creeps come out at night. The nightlife in Venice was a buffet of violent homeless, drug addicts, and gang members. Sometimes you ran into someone who was all three.

We knew we had to be careful especially with each of us carrying an expensive new bong in our bag. Our bikes were locked at the opposite side of the board walk. Once we made it there, we could hop on our bikes and peddle home.

Jason and I walked down the boardwalk quickly. Jason took the lead with his long legs. We did not want to draw attention by running so we walked with haste. My eyes were constantly watching for any movement while simultaneously avoiding eye contact.

"You fools get a new bong?" some random cholo beckoned to us from a bench as we walked by.

I just shook my head nervously back and forth and kept walking.

"Got a dollar?" a homeless person said while approaching me.

I stuck my hand into my pocket fishing around for money.

"Here, I gotta go!" I said while throwing a dollar bill in his direction.

After a ten-minute brisk walk through hell, we made it to our bikes. They were the last ones left on the bike rack and several suspicious homeless sat nearby eyeing them. We unlocked the bikes and rode away as fast as we could.

Over the next few weeks, we showed off our new bongs in Jason's garage and at local high school parties. Word started to spread. No one had heard of glass on glass or percolators. Jason and I started a new trend. Every stoner in town wanted their own bong from "Smokin Heaven".

Jason also became a legend for his ability to get bongs for half the listed price. Some of his customers started offering to drive us to Venice so we could talk Larry into giving them the same type of prices. Or make sure they were getting the right type of down stem. Larry started treating Jason and I like we were the shop VIPs. He even reserved us a parking spot right near the shop if we called ahead. Parking in Venice is an absolute nightmare. Having a parking spot made you a literal king.

With all the money Jason and I were making selling weed, we each kept expanding our own bong collections. I ended up buying the twin to Jason's JBD while he bought his own percolator bong.