This pen weaves a web that will trap you in a potent and lasting high.
In Review: O.pen’s White Widow
If you enjoy scheduling travel, following complicated recipes, or holding intelligent conversations while high, O.pen’s White Widow CBG probably isn’t the cartridge for you. If you like turning your monkey mind off and living entirely in the present, fire it up.
And—real talk—if you really love being blazed out of your mind, then you’ll really love this cartridge, which can be used with any 510 battery, or O.pen’s own proprietary battery. It’s gotten this daily consumer higher than I’ve been in a long time, which has been a mostly pleasant experience.
As a nighttime weed enthusiast who just wants a break from my overactive brain, and to wind down for a few hours before bed, I tend to prefer hybrid, indica-dominant strains. I was expecting this White Widow concentrate to deliver a chill high, perfect for a Netflix comedy special, listening to music, and sleep. But I found it far more powerful—and unexpectedly, impressively versatile.
Every review of White Widow I’ve seen online, including O.pen’s own description (“This one bites!”), warns that the strain is potent. I have the good fortune of low tolerance, and I’m not eager to embarrass myself in public, so for my first try, I stayed in with my partner. I took a few cautious puffs and felt a fuzzy, heady sensation almost immediately.
“The O.pen is smooth, smoother than any vape pen I’ve ever used.”
The O.pen is smooth, smoother than any vape pen I’ve ever used. I took another hit and the sensation spread. Every tense muscle in my body relaxed. Unsure if I could form a sentence, I headed to my yoga mat instead. This was the right choice: a 30-minute session with Adriene was balm for both body and mind. I felt less like I was working out, and more like she was leading me through an incredibly fun game of Twister.
Later in the evening, I hit the pen harder, and my partner and I discovered White Widow’s dark side: too much makes me cranky. I felt as though I were in my own brain cocoon, and being interrupted by reasonable questions about dinner, or what music to listen to, put me on edge. I resolved not to hit it that hard again—and if I did, to either initiate TV time, or put my grumpy stoned ass to bed.
Feeling more confident that I wouldn’t make a fool of myself in the world, I brought the O.pen and White Widow cartridge with me on a night out. A friend I’ve known since high school was celebrating her birthday at an arcade bar, where in addition to the old-school video games, burgers, and beers, they also host different themed nights for dancing. Saturday was Goth Night, with someone she knew spinning industrial tunes.
On a spectrum of weed consumption, my high school friend hovers close to the Snoop Dogg end, so I wanted to know if this slender pen and its contents would even make a blip in her consciousness. Within a few minutes of passing it around in the restroom—a no-no, perhaps, but the O.pen is discreet—we were blissed out and chatting with great enthusiasm about our favorite podcasts. I felt it; she felt it.
“Once we hit the pen, I became euphoric, energized, and delighted by my surroundings.”
I’d been nervous that the White Widow would make me incapable of hanging: that I’d become cranky again, or tired, or freaked out by the goths and their ghostly white contact lenses. Happily, the opposite happened. I was already excited and happy to be among old friends. And once we hit the pen, I became euphoric, energized, and delighted by my surroundings.
I’m not a gamer in the slightest, but I zoned out until my tokens ran out on a first-person shooter. Then my friends and I hit the dance floor, where we vibed with the goths and caught up as best we could over the hypnotic heavy beats. (I know this is a niche situation, but I definitely recommend being around goths when you’re high. They’re dressed to impress; it’s like a human laser show.)
I felt connected: to my friends, to everyone at the bar, to the universe. The music was transportive. Beer was delicious. Water was delicious. The cold air on my face as we left was delicious. I thought about inviting White Widow to all future parties.
Back at home a few days later, with one successful high yoga experience under my belt, I wanted to try again. By this time, I’d learned how to amp up the voltage on the vape pen to bump up the concentrate to a higher temperature, leading to a higher me. I took one hit—and lost my mind.
I can’t say it was the most fun I’ve ever had high, as I crouched on my mat and reassured myself that I had no obligations. No one I needed to talk to, no inopportune situations for my condition. Another half-hour with Adriene got me out of the near panic of being overly blazed, and I was able to ride the high more or less confidently until it wore off.
“There’s little margin for error with this particular concentrate and pen.”
I’ve learned there’s little margin for error with this particular concentrate and pen. If you’re like me and you don’t love feeling completely unmoored from your everyday brain, then tread carefully. Remember it’s always easier to become more high than less, and puff accordingly. Do allow the online instructor of your choice to lead you through a blissful stretching session, if that’s your jam.
Don’t expect to be able to follow any more complicated instructions than that. Do bring it along if you’re heading to a goth dance night. Don’t bring it along to a standardized test. Do warn your loved ones that you might retreat so far into your own universe that communication becomes impossible. And don’t stress if that happens—put on the TV, or dance it out. In essence, respect the White Widow cartridge, and she’ll take care of you.