Boss cheese, hey? Nice.
Let’s just hope the dagga muffins aren’t those overpowering ones that leave one glued to the floor.
If you’ve ever been to Amsterdam the decor might seem familiar:
Inside his establishment the floors are painted like a kiddies’ road-safety traffic park, only the signboards say “Red Light District” and the table tops are decorated in a cannabis theme. There’s a pool table, popcorn machines and a food counter. There’s also a counter displaying smoking paraphernalia.
On the darkened loft floor there are sofas and bean bags; UV lights turn coils of rising dagga smoke into the tangle of live serpents on Medusa’s head.
“There are never fights or anything like that,” says one patron, his lids drooping as he sags back into the sofa, and his high.
It’s not just your stereotypical goefball that pops by, either, because Frank claims to have a few high flyers too:
His patrons include a judge, politically connected elite and stockbrokers. There are also students, businessmen on extended lunch breaks and those looking for cannabis to ease medical maladies.
“South Africans have needed a cannabis coffee shop culture for years. This café is just the beginning,” says Frank L, who’s already plotting a second café. The green revolution is coming, it can’t grow in the dark forever.