I had no reason to do what I did. I have a dealer, and he's solid. It's pretty good quality; in between mids and real dank. Should be good enough for anybody. But no, my friend says the word "blue dreams," and I start thinking something different. I'm used to this. I bring the cash, and the bud is on the table. My dealer sometimes smokes me up. Sometimes we go out to eat something. Here I come in seeing an >old< friend (one year of not seeing someone, that you knew for a decade, is apparently old). We sit on the patio, and next thing you know, we're pounding whiskey. I didn't want to drink, I just wanted the bud, but I wasn't about to kill the vibe. I think this is legitimate because my friends wouldn't/shouldn't push someone that couldn't cough up. Around here, what I'm paying for an ounce is $300. I think that's fine for here on the east coast. I'm told the cost of blue dreams is $360. Hey, I know this isn't California/Colorado, but if it's the real deal, I don't mind coughing up a little extra cash. The information I was told by my friend is it is good, mature bud. I had to hand over the cash, so that the man "Andre," could go to the dealer and bring it back. Apparently, an ounce is bigger, therefore the dealer would be bigger. And apparently, as you climb the ladder of dealers, it becomes sketchier as you go up. I already have a bit of trust worked in, so I had it over. He comes back 45 minutes later. He sits down and the words I hear is "I have good news and bad news." The first thought that comes to my mind is: I should go back to my apartment and get my gun. For internet purposes, this is only a BB gun, and I had only the intention to play with it; not to make any threats. Any who, he tells me the good news is his guy is getting it prepared and bagged up. The bad news is, the dealers is putting up a $60 tax. Well what the fuck could I do at that point; I couldn't show my frustration because I already gave $360. I only have ten bucks left on me, so I have to go to the local bank to cash out from the atm. I tell the guy, before I leave, to haggle it down to $40 for sure. I come back, within fifteen minutes because I have the decency to be on time, and hand him the "tax." He doesn't leave yet, we have to chill for about another hour. Then he leaves with his friend. I'll make this short- from the point I ask to buy, to the point he shows up with it, is 5 hours. I wasn't even paranoid. It was out of my hands. I could be upset, but that's it. If I didn't hear form him, I would have to bite the bullet, and just take it as a life lesson. In that mean time, other people show up. One of them being a good friend of mine. And we just chill. We make some calls out to hear what's going on. Then he mentions he can't get some other stuff. Let's just say 1)my friend has allergies and he will be having sinus issues in the morning 2)cupid flew by and he's going to be hitting people with arrows. The middle man/drug dealer, however, thought it would be god damn hilarious to troll us; essentially me. I'm hearing things about "on the way there," "chilling at 97th street," "at this gas station," "the guy is eating at Outback Steakhouse, we gotta wait for him." Those are all stories in themselves that I don't even know. After an excruciatingly long time, he comes back. So the Blue Dreams...It has an odor, but it's not die hard strong. It was a bit leafy and pretty crystalized; good amount of trichomes. Not worth $400 for the weed, in my opinion though. He also came with the other stuff. All in all, I'm not going to get into this shit anymore. I'll will stick with my day to day job; with my mediocre dealer; and my mediocre life. I love mediocrity.