Opinion story by Brad Harvey. Photo courtesy of Dexter Co.
Brad Harvey is the founder of Dexter Co, a cannabis hospitality brand rooted in Southern charm, low-dose leadership, and the belief that a well-hosted dinner can still save your soul. Find him curating trays, writing words, and helping proper people try cannabis without setting off the smoke alarm.
Disclaimer: This isn’t medical advice, legal guidance, or your Aunt Linda’s Facebook post. It’s a rally cry. I’m not a doctor, a lawyer, or a licensed peace broker—just a guy with a decent charcuterie board, a love for hospitality, and a working knowledge of cannabis. Before you serve anyone the sacred plant, know your state laws, know your guest list, and dear Lord, know the difference between 2.5 mg and a moon rock. You’ve been warned. Now let’s get to work.
Previously, on Southern Hospitality…
In my last piece, I made the case for welcoming cannabis into our gatherings with the same grace we bring to wine, sweet tea, and good linens. I called it a quiet rebellion—a gentle act of hospitality that says, “you’re welcome here,” whether you’re a longtime cannabis user or simply curious.
But now it’s time to turn that quiet rebellion into a full-blown movement. Not with bullhorns or billboards—but with dinner parties, mocktails, and thoughtful trays. Because if we’re going to fix what’s broken—if we want less anxiety, more connection, and better conversations—it’s not going to happen through another protest sign or another angry tweet. It’s going to happen around the table.
And cannabis can help get us there.
Let’s Talk About Her (You Know Exactly Who I Mean)
She’s elegant. Polished. Mid-forties. Her hydrangeas are thriving. She wears linen like it’s armor. She’s the president of the PTA and the queen of the wine club. Her parties have signature cocktails. She’s got a favorite Pilates instructor and a strong opinion about deviled eggs.
And she’s curious.
Not “roll up a blunt and hit a drum circle” curious. Just “what’s this CBD gummy that helped Carol’s husband sleep through the night?” curious. She’s tired. She’s wired. And she’s one glass of Chardonnay away from Googling “cannabis menopause mood help?”
But she’s not walking into a dispensary anytime soon. You know why? Because the cannabis world still feels like a combination of Coachella and a chemistry final. The culture is loud, the language is alien, and the stigma? Alive and well—especially in the South.
That’s where you come in.
You’re Not Just a Host. You’re a Rebel With a Cheese Plate
This movement isn’t going to be led by billboards or budtenders with nose rings explaining terpenes. It’s going to be led by folks like you—smart, welcoming, funny humans who know how to throw a party and set a vibe.
It’s going to be led by cannabis users who know how to read the room and know their guest list. Who can make someone feel included without making them feel like they’re joining a cult.
It starts with the dinner table.
Step One: Normalize the Invite
When you text your friends about the get-together, say what you’ve always said: “We’ll have food, wine, beer…” and now, without fanfare, add: “…and a little cannabis for those interested.”
That’s it. You didn’t make it weird. You made it normal.
Step Two: Curate Like You Care
Don’t just dump a bunch of joints and gummies on the table like you’re hosting a clearance sale at a dispensary. Think like a host. Create a tray. Label the products. Offer low-dose options. Have a fancy non-alcoholic drink ready. Light a candle. Let people ease in.
And for your new or canna-curious guests? Be their guide. Meet them at the door with a 2.5 mg gummy and a smile. Explain the timing. Reassure them that one is enough. Let them know you’ll check in.
This isn’t about getting them high. This is about helping them feel good. Calm. Present. Just a little more them.
Step Three: Remember You’re the Grown-Up in the Room
You know your tolerance. You’ve got stories. You’ve had the deep couch lock moment where time stopped and you questioned your entire life’s purpose while watching a ceiling fan.
They haven’t.
So don’t let them jump in the deep end. This isn’t a test. This is a nudge. A whisper. A well-set table with a side of empathy.
Also—this is important—if your regular cannabis crew is coming, give them the talk: Not tonight, y’all. The volcano vape stays home. We’re bringing new people in. Act like it.
Why it Actually, Deeply Matters
Because the world is burning out. Anxiety is a baseline. Empathy feels like a lost art. People are siloed, screaming into echo chambers, forgetting what it’s like to just sit, breathe, and be.
Cannabis can help. Not by numbing. Not by escaping. But by inviting people back into the moment. Into each other.
Especially in the South, where tradition runs deep and judgment can be quick, we have a unique opportunity to reintroduce cannabis as something that belongs at the table. Not as a spectacle. But as an option. A kindness.
One guest at a time. One dinner at a time. One laugh, one bite, one gentle gummy at a time.
This is how we continue that quiet rebellion. This is how we lead.
So go ahead. Send the invite. Light the candle. Pass the pre-roll.
Let’s change the world. One Southern cannabis dinner party at a time.
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