BlazeBerry Bud Co. used to be the joint everyone talked about. Great strains, comfy vibe, shelves stocked tighter than a pre-roll. Profit margins were looking higher than Snoop on a Saturday.
Until the problem bloomed: the owner, Rick.
Rick was the kind of guy who thought customer service was optional—like shaking stems off a bud. If someone asked for a recommendation, he’d sigh like they were asking for his PIN number. If a vendor was late, he’d blow up their phone harder than a malfunctioning vape.
When a customer complained about dry flower, he didn’t apologize—he barked,
“Maybe your nose is broken.”
People talked.
Reviews rolled in like a bad batch of shatter.
“Weird vibe.”
“Owner acts like he’s above the clouds.”
“Good weed, bad energy.”
Rick tried to laugh it off, saying he was just “keeping it real.”
But the numbers? They were very, very real.
Customers vanished quicker than free samples.
Staff turnover? Higher than the THC content in the top shelf.
Vendors stopped offering deals, because dealing with Rick was like trying to roll a joint in a hurricane: stressful and pointless.
Then came the hit that knocked the business straight into the ashtray:
A long-time regular—who spent more than anyone—took her business elsewhere. Rick demanded to know why.
She shrugged.
“Your weed is fire, Rick… but you burn every interaction.”
By the time he checked the books, profit margins had gone from green to lean, dropping so fast it gave him whiplash.
Turns out, you can sell top-shelf product…
but if the owner acts like a jerk, the money goes up in smoke.
And for BlazeBerry Bud Co., the real buzzkill wasn’t the competition—
it was Rick’s attitude, harsh enough to turn even the best strain into a bad trip.