The German Volcano vaporizer by Storz & Bickel is quite cumbersome and takes up about as much room as a soccer ball in a bag. So it’s hardly ‘portable’ – luggable perhaps.
I hope to try out one or more vaporizers sold on their portability or stealth at some stage, since I’m not anticipating only ever consuming weed vapor at home. Before I get my hands on a smaller vape though, I’m working with what I’ve got.
On Friday, so the second day I’d been using my loaned Volcano to reduce my cigarette or joint smoking, I took it over to a friend’s in the evening. She’s a heavy and unrepentant cigarette smoker, and a key enabler in my own continued smoking habits, since I hang out there 2-3 evenings a week. Convincing her of the efficacy and good sense of a vaporizer would be a real win.
To make a short story even shorter: the vapor made her cough violently, and we ended up sharing a joint. She didn’t exactly say, “don’t bring that thing again”, but I could tell she was unmoved by the experience.
The next day I faced another test of my vaporizing resolve: a night out on the town. I’d arranged to meet a friend on the edge of Amsterdam’s red light district, since both of us noted we hardly ever go out in that touristy but more vibrant part of town any more.
Consuming a couple of Volcano bags of weed vapor before I went out, I noted my slight hesitation as I headed out the door with neither cigarettes nor lighter. But I felt good about it.
To my horror, the cool cocktail bar I’d suggested we meet in had gone down market somewhat since I’d last been there. Looking a bit shabby, what was worse was that it was either small enough to be exempt or brave enough to deliberately flout Amsterdam’s two-year old no smoking in bars rule.
Only days before, this would have been a cause for a small celebration: I can smoke with my beer! Woo-hoo! Now I was faced with waiting in a bar for my friend while 10 of the other 12 patrons were smoking. The French chicks at the table next to me were smoking; the couple opposite were smoking.
To my amazement, I resisted quite easily the temptation to bum one. In fact I sat calmly for 30 minutes (my friend was late). Chalk one up to the vaporizer!
The second test would follow quite quickly as we went out to eat. The cigarette after the meal is of course a well-known stumbling block for tobacco quitters. But again, I went through the meal with no nicotine pangs, and it didn’t even cross my mind to smoke outside afterwards as we headed for a nearby Irish bar.
We sank a couple – OK, three – whiskeys. Not my normal tipple. Then I headed for home and wham: promptly fell off the wagon.
Aware that I had no cigarettes at home and really feeling like a spliff when I got back, my resolve was loosened by the whiskeys and I had no pangs about stopping and picking up a pack of Camels on the way.
So OK, damn and all that! I guess I learned that being a little tipsy rather than a little stoned was worse for my will power. Lesson noted.