Okay, Seattle. Pot tourism has officially begun. While I was trying to suck down a delicious happy-hour tequila shot with a coupla friends at El Malecon—an always-festive Mexican restaurant in Post Alley—this strange fellow in a strange mask came up to us and started eating our chips. He was dancing and lunging at us, repeatedly asking, "Where da weed at? Where da weed at?" OH LORD, THEY ARE COMING FOR OUR MARIJUANA. And it's only gonna get crazier. Mark my words.