Fifteen years ago, early experiences with cannabis went something like this: a furtive glance over the shoulder while passing a joint in a parking lot, or a chaotic brownie experiment gone off the rails. Today, a “first time I tried THC” anecdote isn’t likely to be remarkable at all. Maybe a friend hands you a hemp seltzer at a barbecue while children play in a bouncy house, or a bartender recommends you swap your normal martini order for a new THC mocktail.
The advent of THC drinks is pushing consumption into the mainstream in a way that flower cannabis, vapes, and even edibles couldn’t. With apologies to those who love to tell a stoner story, this new paradigm means fewer high jinks and less rebellion. You’re just another guest holding a can at the kid’s birthday party.
Drinks that get you high have existed in the US in some legal form for roughly 15 years. Keef Brands in Boulder, Colorado, was one of the first to emulsify cannabis into sodas in 2010, available in medical dispensaries four years before its home state launched recreational cannabis use. Since then, two dozen states have followed suit. More recently, hemp-derived THC drinks have become available in even more states thanks to the federal hemp loophole created by the 2018 Farm Bill. This loophole allowed for the sale of hemp with levels of delta-9 THC under 0.3% by dry weight, which some manufacturers concentrated into more potent, psychoactive food and beverages. Whether derived from hemp or cannabis, THC drinks are increasingly ubiquitous in the same places that alcohol is: restaurants, grocery stores, bars, concerts, and backyard hangouts.
Generally, people don’t use THC in quite the same way they use alcohol. They’re more likely to smoke or take an edible to help them sleep or reduce pain, for example, while a glass of wine or beer tends to complement a meal or a way to unwind in a group. (The medical applications of THC partially explains its growing interest among older Americans.) Even as their use cases are slightly different, creating cultural parity between the two—a shared social language—is what could vault THC to the true mainstream.
For Jonathan Andrade, this looks like showing up to his run club with a cooler of Wynk hemp seltzers. Andrade, 35, has used cannabis for years, but until just a few months ago, it was something he didn’t often discuss with most of the fitness-minded friends in his club.
“People are willing to try it,” he says. Previously, it felt taboo, the classic image of a couch-bound stoner clashing with their athletic aspirations, but “the cans are so tiny and they’re colorful, and [my friends] are like, ‘Oh, it seems fine.’” The advent of low-dose hemp beverages that emphasize wellness quickly shifted the paradigm. “It really is kind of like a beer anyways, in terms of how the dosage is,” he says, echoing an analogy many low-dose THC brands make about their products. Andrade points to Offfield, a performance-focused line of THC and CBD drinks and gummies that bills itself as “the best thing to happen to the runner’s high since shoes were invented.” He says cannabinoids help him hit his stride faster and get into his flow state more easily, which echoes early-days university research exploring the beneficial effects of cannabinoids in athletic performance.
The liquid format itself also removes barriers. Andrade used to vape cannabis, but didn’t like the way it made his lungs feel, especially before a run. THC beverages eliminated that and have the added benefit of being more socially acceptable and shareable.
“You don’t just hand a bong off to someone,” he says. “This is definitely different.”
THC drinks are also slipping seamlessly into restaurants and bars, mimicking the format of beer (on draft and in cans) and spirits (as a base for zero-alcohol cocktails). In San Antonio, the casual chicken restaurant Cullum’s Attagirl has been serving THC seltzers for more than two years, and it more recently added the Howdy brand on draft.
The restaurant’s chef and owner, Chris Cullum, a semifinalist for a 2024 James Beard Award, says it’s mostly younger legal-drinking-age customers who order THC beverages, but that older guests have proven curious about them as well. This tracks with recent polling data that shows people in their 20s and 30s are most likely to use hemp-derived THC products, but that the fastest growth since 2021 has come from people in their 60s and 70s. At Attagirl, these seltzers are generating energy and interest in a way that’s refreshing—and good for business.
“Yes, people are excited about something! Let’s do more of that!” Cullum says. “Let’s have some customers to serve.”
Cullum says THC seltzers don’t sell at the same rate that popular beers like local IPAs, but they’re drawing repeat customers who ask for them specifically. He imagines that in the years to come, these drinks will just be a standard part of the beverage menu that requires less and less explanation.
“The more it’s in the marketplace, the more it demystifies it,” he says.
Will all these THC drinks overtake alcohol at Attagirl? Cullum doesn’t think so. Though some people do entirely substitute cannabis for alcohol, this doesn’t appear to be having widespread effects on drinking.
An analysis of federal data by Sightlines, an alcohol and cannabis insights platform I also report for, shows that in most states that have greenlit recreational cannabis, per capita rates of alcohol consumption have actually increased since legalization. Some states, including Colorado and California, saw double-digit increases in per capita drinking since legalization. One explanation is that, for many people, THC and alcohol serve different functions. Sleep, relaxation, and mood boost are generally the top reasons people cite for using THC, while others say they tend toward alcohol for high-energy social moments.
Still, it’s the cultural parity between alcohol and THC that seems core to the mainstreaming of cannabis and hemp. Alcohol is so deeply a part of our American rituals that the Fourth of July is perennially beer’s biggest sales week. If THC drinks can be part of the same barbecues and pool parties, they’ll eventually cement cannabis as just another way for adults to catch a buzz.
“Anyone who goes to a bar now knows which brands to ask for,” says Eliza Colon-Harris, a 33-year-old makeup artist in New Orleans. She still drinks alcohol occasionally, but says her city is a glimpse into the future of what a “420-friendly” city looks like. More frequently, she finds herself swapping in a Louie Louie blackberry lemonade instead of an espresso martini. And unlike she might have had to do with a joint or a vape, Colon-Harris doesn’t have to covertly step out into the alley to enjoy a bit of THC.
“I tell everyone about it.… My friends want to try them. I’ll randomly tell people at the bar,” she says. “I cannot stop telling people how amazing it is and how nice it is not to have a hangover.”