In the Wild West days of cannabis prohibition and an unregulated black market, strain names frequently amounted to little more than a sales gimmick.
Oftentimes, when a dealer would claim to know the name of the strain he was trying to sell you, he was actually completely full of shit. In many cases, he was handed an unmarked sack of greenery by whoever his supplier was, who would give him some name for it that no one could ever confirm. Still other times the dealer would just make some shit up, knowing well that a strain dubbed “Snoop’s Secret Stash” or whatever is going to pique the interest of your average stoner more than some no-name sack of buds.
Then, of course, there’s the classic drug-dealer twist on the ol’ bait-and-switch.
It goes like this: Your dealer claims to have two different strains of weed, one named, oh, I dunno, “Tommy’s Top-Tier” and the other, perhaps, “Chimchards’ Delight.” That Tommy weed, he’ll explain, is really great stuff, definitely nothing to sneeze at, and comes in at $50 an eighth. But this Chimchards’ Delight — oh man, this is really awesome stuff, much better than most of the dreck in town,