It started with a problem the customer couldn't see. Fifteen to twenty hours a week of receiving inventory -- spreadsheets, manifests, lab certificates, vendor reconciliations, and at the end of it a menu that already disagreed with the floor. In 2024 we built a thing to make that go away. The first dispensary tried it. Then the second. By the end of the year a shop was running with twenty hours a week back in the budtenders' hands.
The thing worked. So we made it work for the next shop. And the next. Vermont is a small state with a small set of dispensaries and a big appetite for software that gets out of the way. We built one platform, configured per shop, deployed to every screen. One system. Every screen.
Here's the move nobody else makes: we build the work ONCE and repaint it forever. Same data behind six TV looks, four paper jobs, five card prints, four marketing surfaces. Switch any of them tomorrow if your floor wants something else -- the customer doesn't notice, the underneath doesn't change. Your aesthetic, our flexibility. That isn't a feature. That's the whole shape of the thing.
Rebuilt once. Repaints forever.
Menus are decision-making tools. We cut down problems before your customers see them.
That's the whole pitch. There are sixteen flavors of menu and a dozen apps that talk to each other -- but the underlying promise is short. The customer in front of the bud bar should never see the seams. The owner in the back office should never spend a Sunday on a spreadsheet. The budtender at the counter should never have to apologize for not knowing the strain.
The work is built by someone who actually receives inventory. Who watches the customer pause at the deli case. Who knows what the regulator's letter looks like. Software for cannabis dispensaries built by people who don't sell cannabis is software that ships beautiful demos and shitty Tuesdays. We don't do that.
Built in Vermont by someone who actually receives inventory.
The tooling is built with AI partners. Not used by them -- built with them. A handful of agents read every decision and every line of code, every screen, every receipt. They're collaborators, not contractors. The result is a platform that moves faster than a one-person company has any right to move -- and stays anchored to the floor in a way a venture-backed software company never could.
The platform is Vermont-first. Made for Vermont's craft cannabis culture, Vermont's small farms, Vermont's owners who would rather grow than scroll. It's intentionally low-cloud, self-healing, and quiet. The kiosks don't need babysitting. The dashboard doesn't need an analyst. The strain card just shows up under the jar where it's supposed to be.