I Went to a Cannabis Hiring Fair and Somehow Ended Up Regional Manager
Filed from California, where dreams go to get turned into vape carts and lawsuits
LOS ANGELES — It’s 10:13 AM and I’m already sweating THC and self-loathing in the parking lot of a Stiiizy dispensary-slash-distribution-slash-Instagram trap house. There’s a DJ, two ring lights, and a taco truck giving away free horchata “infused with synergy.” I’m here for what’s been advertised as the largest cannabis hiring fair in SoCal, and brother — it’s already off the rails.
Somewhere between the second dab and the fifth vape explosion, I accidentally joined middle management.
Yes. I am now a fucking Regional Manager at Stiiizy.
You’ve heard of Stiiizy. They're the Yeezy of weed. The Supreme of mids. The vape pen your cousin got addicted to in community college. They run the largest cannabis retail chain in California, sling more flavored air than Juul ever dreamed of, and still somehow manage to get sued more than Exxon.
They also, apparently, do walk-up hiring like it’s a Panda Express.
The venue? An empty warehouse in Vernon that smells like unlicensed cologne, carpet glue, and vague felony. The energy is equal parts EDC, DMV, and ICE checkpoint. Security pats me down like I’m smuggling morals. A Stiiizy rep hands me a clipboard and a dab rig. “You look like you’ve led people before,” he says. “You’re in charge of San Bernardino now.”
Before I can say “I’m just here to write,” I’m wearing a polo that says DISTRICT COMPLIANCE AMBASSADOR. The irony, of course, is that Stiiizy has the same relationship with compliance that a raccoon has with traffic laws.
Just last year, the brand got slapped with a $1 million penalty after nine of its “affiliates” were caught slinging weed illegally — like, straight-up trap house style. Their founder, Tony Huang, casually listed his Orange County mansion while allegedly navigating civil penalties and whispering THC percentages like stock tips.
Inside, it’s chaos. There’s a booth called “Corporate Vibes” playing Doja Cat on loop while handing out branded condoms. One girl lists her job history as “OnlyFans content manager, DJ, and CEO of my truth.” She gets hired on the spot. Another guy walks in wearing a full ghillie suit and tells me, “I used to guard grows up north. I’m here for middle management or war.”
A guy named Juice hands me a vape that tastes like synthetic blueberries and disappointment. “This one’s real THCA,” he winks. My face goes numb and I forget how walking works. I sit in on a training session where someone explains employee discipline policy using an Uno deck.
Midway through, the HR lead tells me Stiiizy “isn’t a brand, it’s a lifestyle ecosystem.” I ask what that means and she says, “It means you never leave.” She hands me a W-2 and a stress ball shaped like a dab tool.
One dude with a neck tattoo of Elon Musk reads his job offer aloud like it’s a wedding vow:
“I hereby pledge to uphold the vape gospel and ensure every disposable unit contains at least 64% hope.”
By 4 PM, the DJ collapses from dehydration. A fistfight breaks out near the merch booth over a mislabeled Live Resin cart that’s actually just highly flammable sadness. Someone gets a Stiiizy logo tattooed on their calf to celebrate becoming Assistant Manager of Logistics, which is just a fancy way of saying “you now handle complaints from dudes named Kyle who claim the pen didn’t hit right.”
I try to escape out the back and end up cornered by a VP who asks me if I know how to “run operations in Fresno.” I tell him I barely know where Fresno is.
He says, “That’s fine. We’re not really there either.”
So here I am — a stoned, sunburnt journalist turned regional retail puppet for a company currently battling more class actions than Subway. My only task so far has been reviewing TikToks for “brand synergy violations” and explaining to the intern that a COA is not short for “Call of Action.”
Final Thought: If Stiiizy ever goes public, invest in bail bonds and fire extinguishers. Their business model is “hype now, ethics never,” and their HR department runs like a carnival game where the prize is a felony.
Filed by Boof du Jour’s newest corporate puppet, broadcasting live from the janitor’s closet of a Stiiizy in Palmdale with three iPads and one working fire exit. Please send snacks and a lawyer.
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