B & B Cactus Farm

we just found this place yesterday and we were blown away ! So many unique plants to choose from, and more ! It’s our favorite place now.

I used to come into this nursery weekly because I genuinely loved it. Keyword: USED TO. Unfortunately, it has since gone straight to hell in a handbasket, hit every cavernous cave and crevice on the way down, and landed face-first in a pile of its own neglect. There are rat traps strewn everywhere with dead rats rotting inside them like some kind of deranged Halloween display. Imagine a small child—because families do come here—sticking their innocent fingers into one of those traps. Absolutely reckless. It’s not a nursery, it’s a liability lawsuit with succulents. The plants themselves look like they’ve been personally abandoned by God. Half-dead, rotting, diseased, and somehow still outrageously overpriced. $39 for a tiny agave that looks like it’s begging for mercy? Please. I could go to Home Depot, pay half the price, and get something twice as healthy and not risk tetanus. The plants look like they’re actively trying to die. Moldy; sunburned, and somehow still priced like rare museum specimens. I saw a barrel cactus that looked like it’s been kicked around the parking lot. Insulting. I’ve seen healthier plants growing out of sidewalk cracks. Then there’s the staff. I asked the girl at the front desk—long black hair—if they had prickly pears, and she stared at me like I’d just spoken in Ancient Greek. She had no idea what that even was. Imagine being hired at a cactus nursery and not knowing the most basic, entry-level cactus imaginable. But given how aggressively tight her yoga pants were, it’s pretty clear botanical knowledge was not a prerequisite for employment. Eye candy over competency, apparently. Instead of helping me herself, she pawned me off on an elderly man—Keith, I think—who would not stop blathering. A small man with a colossal ego and a voice that droned on like an AM radio stuck between stations. The body odor was so foul I honestly thought the dumpster had been left open somewhere nearby. Turns out, no—it was just Keith, marinating in his own stench and self-importance. But the real reason I’m writing this review is the deeply uncomfortable and wildly inappropriate interaction I had with the owner, Mark. He led me into a greenhouse to show me a plant. He was, as usual, wearing the same raggedy swimsuit and flip-flops he apparently lives in—because professionalism has clearly never visited this establishment. Everything below the waist was flopping around freely like a sea creature caught in a net. His toenails looked like ostrich talons curling over the edge of his sandals, clawing toward the soil. Good lord. Someone get this man a pedicure, or a closed-toe shoe, or basic human shame. He stood far too close. Close enough that I could see through his filthy swimsuit that he was… let’s just say, excited. Trying to keep things civil, I awkwardly said, “Uh… how are you?” His response? “I’d be better if my wife would just put out. She hasn’t blown me in years.” I cannot overstate how fast my soul tried to exit my body. I immediately told him my HUSBAND was waiting for me in the car and bolted out of there like the greenhouse was on fire. Completely unacceptable. Unprofessional. Disgusting. This man should not be running a business, let alone interacting with customers. Rest assured: he will be hearing from my attorney. B&B Cactus Farm: Where Plants Go to Die!

This place was awesome and had so many varieties of cactus and succulents. Even in winter there was so much color. The staff was very helpful and knew exactly where each kind and size of cactus was, wish I could have brought so many more with me.

Large portions and tasty food. We started with the cauliflower appetizer, which was very different and really good. I had the Ahi BLT, and the girls shared a Mahi Mahi fish and chips. We still ended up with leftovers.

Amazing selection of cacti, some sansevieria, lithops, plumeria, desert rose, etc. They also have a nice selection of decorative stones.