Medical marijuana dispensary review: Kindman in Denver has the kind, man
Kindman has rebranded as the Grass Station.
Kindman is down the street from the Regency dorms, which for some reason I will always remember as the crack-palace hotel it was before it was converted to student housing a few years ago. With the hotel's 180-degree turnaround, the area doesn't seem as skeevy anymore. Industrial, sure. But it's nice to park and not worry about your car being broken into by a meth head.
Kindman 4125 Elati Street Denver, C0 80216 303-546-3626 MyKindman.com Hours: 10 a.m. to 7 p.m. daily. Raw marijuana price range: $8/gram $20-$40/eighth-ounce, $125-$240/ounce. Members receive 10 percent off purchase. Other types of medicine: Edibles. Online menu? Yes. Handicap-accessible? Yes.I didn't really know what to expect going into Kindman. I hadn't heard much about it online other than that the shop had cheap bud prices; I figured it would be just another discount center. Pulling up and seeing the place didn't help that impression, either. The dispensary is in a concrete, pre-fab structure painted gray, not unlike the other warehouse businesses around it. The only thing setting Kindman apart is that it has more cars coming and going from the parking lot instead of big-rig trucks.
The drab, institutional-feeling waiting room didn't help. The linoleum-tile floors echo your every shuffle and sound off the empty white walls and pockmarked acoustic ceiling tiles. It's industrial in the authentic way, not in the "let's expose some brick and HVAC work like a New York City loft" industrial way. So far, the place reminded me of those ghetto locations back in 2009 that were basically just a desk and some dude selling powdery mildew-infested bullshit. I was kicking myself and debated turning the four-page intake form back over blank and asking for my ID and red card back.
But something kept me there: It's a tossup as to whether it was the skunky smell or the fact that I didn't have time to go anywhere else this week. Either way, I sat around in the county-jail-waiting-room-like entryway until the extremely bubbly and friendly woman behind the tinted glass security window buzzed the door open and told me to go on back.
After the bleakness of the waiting room and my lingering impression of the area itself, the inside of Kindman felt like walking into Oz: green walls, bright lights and a table full of herb to check out. No decorations on the wall other than a chalk price board. The bud bars are two clean, sleek countertops jutting into the room from the walls about two-thirds of the way back. Buds can be found in display jars, while the stock is kept behind the bar in another room connected by a pass-through. It's like the pharmacy window at a hospital, or the serving window of a restaurant.
The few edibles in the shop are in a small fridge to the left, and a black wood-and-glass display case is set up with a few glass pipes, papers and blunt wraps. No hash, just bud -- which I quickly discovered was way better than I thought it would be.
My budtender, a small, dark-haired girl with a lip ring, was sitting at the lower counter on the right. So I snagged the open seat in front of her and the buds and started popping the little tin tops for better looks. Almost everything was impressive, even the lowest-tier strains like the fluffy Purple Cotton and the eye-catching Spirit of '76. Also impressive were the dense, chocolatey Bicenntennial, the spicy Durban Poison, the buttery Trainwreck and a Green Crack that almost came home with me. My ear-to-ear smile probably gave my excitement away as I geeked out on their herb for about five minutes.
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