That area was the posh part of Miami—where women’s fake lips formed artificial smiles and men’s gazes only fell on make-up-coated, ex-beauty queens. I hated Brickell, but the 420 party was located here, and wherever the marijuana went, I followed. The couple that had been riding the elevator with us, strolled by and waved at us. “Happy 420!” Like us, they were dressed in designer clothes and masks. I winked and waved back. “Happy 420 to you too!” The term 420 had embedded itself in weed culture even before I’d been alive. Most used it as a codename to identify other smokers. Some went as far as posting 420-friendly on their dating profiles. True stoners made 4:20pm their ceremonial time to partake of a smoke. Almost all celebrated, smoked, and munched together on the day of April 20, as a sort of cannabis subculture holiday. From London to Los Angeles, South Africa to Iran, one could yell out the term to strangers, and if they smoked, they nodded and understood, maybe even shared a little something with the person.
