Coming Down from Dry January on a Cümulo Cloud

If you’ve kept up with my nightlife diary here in the Queen City, you probably guffawed when I wrote about my experience as a lush entertaining a *Wa-kinda* sober lifestyle laced with cannabis-infused alternatives.

To my naysayers, I say, “The cards of FOMO, small-talk-phobia, and a palate for debauchery were stacked against me but, ‘We did it, Joe!‘”

Two weeks into Dry-Ish January — aka Moist January, also called “Dry Mouth January” by boo’s hairstylist — I had settled into peak “high” snobiety: sinking into the couch in oversized sweats, eating my weight in pizza, streaming nonstop movies and TV, and redecorating.

By the time I started paying to play Merge Hotel on my phone, it was clear, I was perfectly content in my self-imposed exile. Be “2020 outside” in 2025? You a lie. But then bae hit me with a nostalgic switch-up: Hattie’s Tap and Tavern. Yes, I called to confirm they had some liquid “green” courage before forfeiting my solitude for a potentially disruptive social experience … sober.

While it had been awhile since our last meeting, I always remember Hattie’s parking lot was deceivingly small, especially when you’re the one looking for a spot. Sometimes that meant it was good and busy, which still read “approachable dive” — social interactions at medium rare and “minding your Ps and Qs” on full blast.

Other times it meant perfectly spaced bite-sized parties tying one on, but also driving it after. But this particular Thursday, as we pulled into the only spot I could discern, I glanced over to see someone checking IDs — a sure sign that whatever lay beyond the door was anything but laid back.

I hesitated for a moment, frozen like an awkward deer in the headlights of the entryway. The sensory overload that was off-key karaoke, tumbling laughter, and loud music spilled into the lot tempting me with a good time … back at home.

*Cue Jordin Sparks’ TikTok-famous “heel click” intro to “One Step at a Time” as she turns on her heel, not looking back. And just like that, she lived happily ever after.*

Snap back to reality, oh there goes bae’s gravity as he shoots me a similarly bewildered look but making more decisive advances toward the entrance.

To my surprise, the majority of the perceived mayhem was contained at the front of the room, clustered around the stage. This left us a cozy refuge in the back, where the twinkling console game screens offer the perfect backdrop; the only wild card was a loud speaker blasting music, and the bar is just a hop, skip and a jump away.

Austin Eastciders, Strongbow, and … plant-based bevvies. “Gangs all here!” Accepting my anxiety has a flair for the dramatic, I let myself relax, only to be swept up by the theatrical showmanship of an observably shy Benny Blanco type sporting a curly fro, a vintage-looking Chevron jacket, and a scarf tied around his neck.

He launched into David Lee Roth’s “Just a Gigolo/I Ain’t Got Nobody,” complete with floor routine and a solid voice that, as far as I could tell, seemingly and effortlessly mimicked Roth’s ability to balance parody and pure stage presence.

For the entire six-minute 1985 hit, everyone in the room was pulled into his orbit like a late-night Vegas lounge act no one expected but everyone suddenly needed. Or were we all just on the sauce?

I looked over at bae, unamused and unbothered by the Broadway performance I was witnessing, but fixated on the bright lights of his laptop, on which he was burning the late-night oil. I looked down at the can of Resident Culture’s Cümulo, a hemp-derived craft sparkling water, as if it was to blame for my being extra. After all, I’d opted for the heavyweight option.

Cümulo comes in three flavors and four concentration levels of natural hemp-derived Delta-9 THC and CBD: 2.5mg THC/5mg CBD; 5mg THC/10mg CBD; 10mg THC/20mg CBD; and one big boy that packs a punch with 30 mg CMD/60 mg CBD. Each selection includes 200 mg of L-Theanine, a calming amino acid. I got five (milligrams) on it!

Just when my paranoia began its “long-term health effects of cannabis drinks” spiral, I noticed a QR code on the can that read, “LAB TESTED SCAN FOR RESULTS,” which led to a Google Drive folder where you can view the Certificate of Analysis for each batch. A win for transparency.

Boo and I tried Cümulo for the first time on a much overdue return to Resident Culture’s Plaza Midwood location in search of alcohol-free alternatives. Little did I know we’d be trying the very first cannabis-infused drink to hit North Carolina, or that it was brewed in house, or that it was released in 2023! No wonder the branding felt effortless, ethereal and educational all at once.

Read more: The Sober Curious Movement Continues to Grow in Charlotte (2024)

Two years later and I’m seeing Cümulo everywhere — behind the bars of laidback hangs like Hattie’s, in bottle shops like Sip City and Common Market, alongside other NA sips to wet your whistle at cocktail bars.

My only words of advice: Proceed with caution, do your research, recognize like all cannabis creations and THC alternatives aren’t cheap ($8-$13 per can at most places). And, last but absolutely not least, do NOT drink more than 30mg in one sitting if it’s your first time giving them a try.