My dad used to work at a 24 hour convenience store in the '80's.
He said the stoned customers would come up with double arm fulls of junk food, cheerfully spacey and amicably asking him not to rip them off as they hand over fistfulls of money. A little too high to concentrate on counting cash, but harmless other than the occasional contact high from a marijuana cloud.
Drunk ones, more often than not were mean and got in dad's face first thing. "What the fuck are you looking at?" slurred in breath that would knock a moose over at 1,000 yards. Swearing and abusive left, right, and center, dad said he learned new ways to insult someone's birthright.
He also said he would take a night of weed smokers over a single drunken customer any day.