Whoop, whoop, that’s the sound of the police” this line brought to you by KRS-One. Being in my family there’s always been a distrust even resentment towards cops. Part of it I believe is racially related but the other part is the marijuana prohibition that has been in play for years.
One of my firm beliefs on the legalization of marijuana is that in “bad” neighborhoods the police and citizen relationship will become a lot stronger. No longer would an adult smoking pot would have to fear a cop smelling bud in the air.
Most smokers are quick to jump that cops are dicks, I’m just quick not to trust them. As long as there are groups like L.E.A.P it gives me faith there are people in authority with common sense or cops like the one in my second encounter, let me share with you my cops and marijuana stories.
My first encounter with cops occurred in San Diego, Ca. at a May Day Concert. The concert was an all day event with bands like Blink-182 (before they got big), Lucy’s Fur Coat (they never made it big but should have) and other local bands like Black male.
In between sets I would go to my car with some friends and smoke up. On one of those trips we were standing beside my car with the doors open smoking a joint. Before I had a chance to throw it away two cops on bicycles rolled up on us. Let me say this though if you’re busted by a bicycle cop you have to be pretty high and oblivious to the world, I was. We all got the pat down and they went through my glove compartments to find nothing extra than the baggie I handed them and wrote me a 250 dollar ticket for possession under an ounce. The repercussions of that incident were money and community service.
My next encounter was quite pleasant. I was out for a California drive hot boxing along the coast, checking out the ladies and enjoying some killer herb. When we reached the end of the road along the beach there was a stop light. I stopped on red and apparently made an illegal left hand turn when the light was green. Needless to say, again no one was looking for cops. I saw the lights and heard the sirens, I think I even smelt some shit right than, and hurried to roll down the windows as I looked for a safe spot to pull-over.
The cop sat behind us for what seemed an eternity than approached the driver side door. He didn’t even ask for license and registration, he just sniffed and went to the no fucking around question “Do you have any illegal substances or weapons on you?” I replied back with “Just some marijuana sir.” and than handed him my baggie. At that point he took my bag and dumped it in some grass that was along the curb. Than he came back to the car and asks to see what we used to smoke it, so I take a warm pipe out of my crotch and hand it to him. From here it gets weird he examines the bowl but neglects the chamber stuffed with bud and hands it back to me! Than he asks if we’re doing anything else and we all reply “No sir! Meth sucks.” (Oceanside, Ca. and most of Southern California has a bad meth problem). At this point we’re all stunned and he says “You boys need to be more careful and don’t smoke and drive. Now go home.” You could never hear a more polite group of guys in a car “Yes sir, yes sir, right away sir.” As soon as we got home though we opened the stash chamber to the pipe and smoked the sweetest herb in the world all while thinking “What the fuck was that?”
My next and last encounter wasn’t so nice. Out of the many odd jobs I’ve had demolition was one of them. I loved that fucking job. There’s nothing like getting paid to get high and be told that walls need to be destroyed.
At the time black JNCO shorts and white T-shirts were the style which unfortunately also made me look like every other wanna-be or not-so-wanna-be gangbanger out there. This is the only reason I can think of why the following events happened or maybe the cop was just racist; I was driving down the 101 enjoying the ocean views and a pipeload of pot when I saw the red and blue flashing behind me. Again the cop takes forever before coming to the driver side but this one asks for license and registration. I present him with all the proper documentation and tell him I’m on my way to work. He informs me I was pulled over for an out brake light than asks if I had any illegal substances. Figuring it would just lead to another expensive ticket I hand him the bag I had. This though leads to a gun drawn on me and put in the back of the squad car. As I sit in the back of the squad car Officer Dickhead calls in reinforcements. Two more squad cars roll up and than proceed to rip the shit out of my car. Tearing up the back seat, pulling everything out of my trunk, these assholes really thought they had something. As Officer Dickhead is ripping my car apart I’m yelling “I gave you everything you fucking asshole!” He proceeds to threaten to take me to downtown. When the Keystone Cops were done tearing up my car the two leave and Officer dickhead lets me go with the ticket I was expecting.
We all have our own experiences with cops some good, some bad but I would like to think they’re not all power glory hounds with small dicks. Some are actually good guys (and gals) just trying to make a living like most of us. Just trying to do the right thing and arrest the real bad guys (and gals). But word of advice, don’t give them a reason to pull you over. Check your lights at night, check those turn signals and brake lights and if you’re not sure if you can turn in a certain spot — go the long way. Just remember not all of them are douches.
As you ponder your own experiences with cops here some shit I found on the net;
An elderly gentlemen buys a painting five years ago to find 4 lbs stashed behind it. Estimated value $4,800. I’m calling bullshit. Even if it was chronic 4 yrs ago no way you’re getting 1,200 a pound.
New England gets a marijuana school
Fuck! You think it would be cool to get high in Bermuda