PROVINCETOWN — I’ve been smoking pot, on and off, since I was 13 years old. That was back in 1969, in suburban New Jersey, when my older brother returned from the front lines of the Vietnam era counterculture revolution — i.e., college — and thought it might be fun to corrupt me.

The addition of pot to my personal profile didn’t, in fact, corrupt me, but it definitely helped my social status among the eighth-graders in my hometown of Fair Lawn. The fact that it was illegal was key: for a pudgy nerd who was often the teacher’s pet, the air of danger and criminality instantly rehabilitated my reputation. I wasn’t much of a rebel, really, but I was doing something that others were afraid of, and that made me cool.

I never got busted or sucked up into a spiral of abuse, as a few (very few) of my friends did, and as I grew into an adult, the fact that possession of marijuana could put you in jail became more of a hindrance than a badge of honor. I had no interest in supporting a criminal enterprise. I just wanted to have my private jollies without jumping through hoops.

So I welcomed the decriminalization of marijuana in Massachusetts in 2008, the approval of medical marijuana in 2012 and, finally, the legalization of recreational marijuana for adults 21 or over in 2016. When the first licensed businesses for recreational pot opened in November 2018, in Northampton and Leicester, my husband and I considered driving out there to test the waters. Reports of three-hour waits and a three-hour drive to and from our house in Truro ultimately deterred us.

But when the fourth recreational license was approved, for a store in Wareham, just across the canal, the lure was irresistible. The medical cannabis dispensary Verilife, at 112 Main St. in Wareham (right behind Tobey Hospital), started selling “adult use” — its term for recreational — in December, and we started planning a trip.

Last Sunday, with a couple of friends, Ed and I embarked on an outing to the mainland.

It may have seemed humorous to others that this carful of LGBT elders from the Outer Cape was making its way across the bridge to the promised land of retail pot, but for us it was an exceedingly pleasant Sunday jaunt, with not very long waits and the thrill of discovery invigorating us.

We made our way to Water Wizz, the Wareham water park (closed for the season) where Verilife had set up parking, a tent for those waiting in line, and shuttle buses to take you to and from the store, which is three miles away.

Ironically, this was Water Wizz’s last day as way station. Shelley Stormo, executive director of PharmaCannis Massachusetts (doing business as Verilife) told me Tuesday, when I spoke to her by phone, that the store had already moved its parking lot for recreational customers (medical marijuana patients and handicapped customers can park in a lot right behind 112 Main St. and skip lines).

“We were able to move it much closer,” Stormo said, “to the Tremont Nail factory at 8 Elm St. in Wareham. We’re still providing shuttles, but it’s less than a mile away.”

I also asked Stormo why Verilife was able to open in December in Wareham, while hopefuls on the Cape are still working their way through the approval process.

“We were really lucky,” Stormo said, “due to our collaboration with the town of Wareham. Community support is essential. The host community has a lot of say as to when and how these places open.”

For us, the remote check-in in the ghostly shadow of Water Wizz went swimmingly well. We had arrived just as the store was opening (from noon to 5 p.m. daily), and spent maybe 20 to 30 minutes in the tent that was set up, handing over IDs to register and looking over the menu of recreational choices and prices. Although state law limits daily purchases to one ounce per person, Verilife had capped purchases at 14 grams (about a half-ounce) of flower, or loose buds, which was what we were seeking. Concentrates and edibles with far higher THC levels are restricted to daily purchases of 5 grams by law, and less by Verilife. The half-ounce restriction on flower was instituted by Verilife in anticipation of crowds, and will eventually be loosened.

Verilife insists that ID information is confidential and is taken so that the company can prove to the state that it is in compliance with per-person limits.

As we looked over the price lists and asked questions, everyone hired by Verilife was polite and as helpful as they could be, though they recommended that questions about the quality of the pot itself should be reserved for the “bud-tenders” at the store, who are fully trained.

Despite the calm cheeriness of the employees, there was a detectable wariness among the customers, and a few mischievous giggles. All those years of illegality are not easily shaken. Buying pot is not yet as perfunctory as buying liquor. A couple of people noted that some of the men guiding cars and pedestrians were cops, which Stormo confirmed. It’s all part of that collaboration with the town, but for the people in line, most of whom appeared to be middle-aged, memories of sneaking around are ever-present.

After the shuttle ride (with about a dozen seats), there was another wait outside the door to the store (where another tent is set up in bad weather), which took about 15 minutes. Then you’re let in slowly, as space opens up, into the lobby where medical is sold. That took another 10 minutes or so. Finally, we were allowed in the “adult use” room and went up to our salesperson, who was named Holly.

She was knowledgeable and helped us choose the right type of plant (indica, sativa or hybrid) for the mellow, nighttime high we preferred. There’s an ATM in the store, but we were prepared for the cash-only rule for recreational customers. We paid about $400 for an ounce (two halves between us), including tax, and walked out to a waiting shuttle back to the car.

After lunch and an hour-plus drive home, sans traffic, we looked back at the trip with amusement. We’ll never have to deal with illicit deals when buying pot ever again.

Or maybe, with a little luck, we’ll be purchasing our pot at a local dispensary in Provincetown. I asked Stormo how long it might take before stores selling recreational pot open up on the Cape.

“It could be up to a year,” she said. “I don’t know. It all depends on how quickly these communities start to back these businesses.”

Meanwhile, off to Wareham we will go. “We’d love to see anyone who is willing to make the trip,” Stormo said. “It’s a really fun environment. We’re making history here.”