Product review: Coda bath bombs were a waste of bathwater
A couple of weeks ago, I spent $35 on some bath bombs. Before you shade me, these were Coda Signature bath bombs from the Symphony Collection, and the box contained three bath bombs, each with 15 mg of THC and 15 mg of CBD. That’s a total of 45 mg of THC and 45 mg of CBD, for those of you who are bad at math.
Please excuse the snark. I’m a little salty about this whole endeavor – $35 is a lot of money for some bath bombs – and I’m even saltier that I’m now writing about it. Anyway, here’s what happened.
So, I was in the dispensary (which shall not be named) and I was picking up some other stuff for a review. While I was looking around, I spotted out the corner of my eye a box of very fancy looking bath bombs. I was excited. I was even more excited that they were Coda, because Coda’s chocolates are basically the effing best, so I figured these bombs had to be good.
I asked the budtender, who said she hadn’t tried them, but was equally intrigued. Knowing that they were Coda and that someone else had their eye on them then pushed me over the edge from curiosity into flat-out want, so I bought them. I need to stop being a toddler and let someone else have the toy sometimes.
I opened the box in the car to take a look, and half-expected them to smell a bit like weed. You know, just like every gummy is supposed to taste like fruit, but actually taste like fruit grown with cannabis spliced in. The weed version of tomacco. (Simpsons reference, anyone?) But, they didn’t. They smelled like a mix of lavender, rose, and some other spice or flower or something. Pleasant.
I threw them on the kitchen counter at my casa, mostly to annoy everyone in my house and make them jealous of my find, and a few days later, after the novelty had worn off, I threw the “calm formula” bomb into the bath. It is described by Coda as this: “The earthy aroma of cedar wood blended with lavender help ease tension and calm anxiety. Combined with sweet marjoram and the essence of benzoin this formula brings a sense of comfort and a feeling of serenity.”
The bomb fizzed nicely, just like a normal ass bath bomb should, and then it dissolved, leaving a layer of dried lavender on top of the bath water. I got in and prepared for greatness, but there I sat, the same old pot writer as before, unchanged. Convinced I was missing something, I soaked my literal ass for what felt like an eternity, and then ultimately got very sick of sitting in water. During that time, nothing happened. NOTHING. I did not feel relaxed. I did not feel calm. I mostly felt confused and pissed off that I’d wasted about $12 on a bath bomb that dissolved in .5 seconds.
I got out, waited a while longer for my sore muscles to feel less...sore, or my annoyance to slough off and be replaced with calm, but again, nothing happened. Nada. Zip.
I tried again with the “balance formula” bomb a couple of days later, figuring maybe my stupid chi was off the first time or something. Balance is described by Coda as this: “Patchouli, lavender and rose geranium harmonize to create a soothing, rich experience. This luxurious fragrance grounds and restores with oils that nourish and relieve tired or irritated skin.”
You know what happened? You guessed it. Nothing. And now I’m going to have to scrape dried-on flakes of rose petals out of my bathtub. Maybe that’s where the balance part comes in. I’ll let you know.
I still have the “uplift formula” bath bomb left, and to be honest, I kinda want to hurl it into my fire pit to see what happens. I would venture to guess that doing so would be about as useful as throwing it in the bath, and perhaps it would help to ease my annoyance over wasting $35 on nonsense. Chances are, though, that I’ll eventually throw it into the bathtub in vain because I am a glutton for punishment.
So, let that be a lesson to you. Don’t buy three bath bombs for $35, and don’t be a toddler. That is all.