Ron Shinkman 11 March 2010 News 4,159 views No Comment Print This Post  Email This Post

H.I.N.T. CareGivers is located in the corner of a small outdoor mall in Van Nuys on a street that has seen better days. The anchor tenant, a Circuit City, closed last year. It is being replaced by a thrift shop.

            But H.I.N.T. (“Healing Impact Natural Treatment”), which opened in April 2009 and occupies a former chiropractor’s practice, is as pristine – and appropriate – as any medical office. Visitors are buzzed in through a metal gate. The reception area features a “Law Enforcement Supporter” sticker from the Retired Disabled Police of America. The wall behind the receptionist’s desk is covered with neatly framed tax certificates and business permits from various local and state authorities. A nearby sign announces that workplace sexual harassment is illegal.

            “I am not one of those people who wants to put a big pot leaf on the roof and attract all sorts of attention,” says Yuri, a 25-year-old graduate of Cal State University Northridge and one of H.I.N.T.’s partners, who asked that his last name not be used.

            The professional, nearly antiseptic aura permeates H.I.N.T.’s dispensary area, which is painted orange and green and paved with linoleum designed to resemble parquet. About 20 different types of marijuana are neatly kept in glass mason jars behind glass-walled counters. A whiteboard meticulously classifies between sativa and indica varieties. A lighted jeweler’s loupe is provided for patients to closely inspect plants.

Most edibles are kept in a glass-front refrigerator. They include cakes, sodas, lollipops and even hot sauce, which Yuri says is closer in flavor to barbecue sauce. Although H.I.N.T. accepts credit cards, an ATM machine in the dispensary area caters to patients who don’t want such purchases appearing on their statements.

Prices began at $35 for an eighth of an ounce, although premium strains such as Bluetooth go for as much as $250. Yuri says H.I.N.T. provides sliding discounts to disabled and low-income patients.

H.I.N.T.’s only break from the straightforward business of dispensing marijuana is a dartboard. Patients who score a bullseye receive a free gram. Yuri wryly notes that far more bullseyes are scored by patients who have not been recently medicated.

            Yuri, who has a slight accent he picked up from his Ukrainian émigré parents, would presumably net a lot of bullseyes. He says he does not regularly imbibe, other than to test the quality of new products.

“I’m not a patriot of this culture,” he says, adding that he was looking for a reliable business to get into after he received his degree in graphic design and couldn’t find work in that sector.

            Although H.I.N.T. has a base of some 1,300 patients and services as many as 40 on a busy day, it also turns away its fair share. Most are walk-ins Yuri suspects are underage and using fake identifications. Patients are also not permitted to mill outside.

            “We try and keep this a medication environment, not a party environment,” says Yuri, who has spent many hours in recent days on the phone with City of Los Angeles officials, trying to discern how to adjust to recently passed dispensary regulations. Yuri says H.I.N.T. has a license grandfathered in from a previous pre-moratorium dispensary, whose name he would not provide.

            Adjoining the dispensary is a lounge painted purple, with black leather sofas and two 37-inch flat-screen televisions. A vaporizer and a variety of bongs are provided, and are sanitized with each use.

            Business was slow on a recent Friday afternoon, where the only visitors were a couple from Santa Clarita, watching a sports show and eating hot dogs. But Yuri suggests that the coming weekend would be bustling. He remains optimistic about H.I.N.T.’s prospects, despite L.A.’s upcoming dispensary crackdown.

            “There’s going to be a tough year or two ahead, but there is still lots of opportunity,” he says.