Five years ago I met this guy at this loft party in Brooklyn. It was July 1st and I had literally just gotten off the plane from Florida. I spent the month of June following every Pride week between Orlando and South Beach, and ended the parade with a week long music conference of the EDM variety. It was the kind of month where everyone talked about snow, but it never snowed. He had over heard me talking about my adventure in South Beach, which ended with this methed out dude in pink denim daisy dukes, a wife beater, and just socks, no shoes, following me down  A1A grabbing his junk.

We began talking, exchanging stories, until he decided to open his bag and pulled out a rather large ziploc bag full of jewel cases packed with herb. He handed me a business card and said, "I work for Jack, and don't ask me who Jack is 'cuz I know jack shit."  Apparently, he worked for one of those delightful delivery services. The kind where you call a number within the five boros of New York City, and an angry man picks up the phone. He demands your name and address and says thirty minutes. Then just like that, two or three hours later a guy is in your apartment pulling out various strains of cannabis to choose from at a premium price. Very illegal, which makes it very convenient. You don't have to leave your house! Regardless, over the past several years we got to know each other real well. It took a while, but after four years, he finally agreed to answer some questions...

Jon:  Start off with how you got started?