(Copied from the original post in 'where was the worst place you have been high') Last night was one of the luckiest (or unluckiest) nights of my life..... We had gone out painting that night. I had downed a forty and a half, had been smoking all day. We decided to take a break from painting and headed on up to a small school on the hill. We got on the roof and smoked a bowl there. When the time came, we went back down the hill and grabbed our paint on the way back. My freind had just hit up a blank sign on the side of the road with spraypaint and we decided to cross over to the other side of the street. No cars in sight . . . we didn't hear a thing. We had made it probably a good twenty feet up the road. A car is coming. As I watched the car everything seemed slow motion, I questioned whether or not it was actually coming towards us. Maybe somebody is lost? The car turns of it's high-beams (finally) and we can see it is a cop car. My heart sinks. My knees tremble; this is not what I expected. There is a car behind this one, I can see it now under the light of the intersection. It is another cop car, he turns on his lights and pulls up infront of the other car. I clutch my hand on my wrist and try to hold myself normal. I can only really stand one way at this point; there is a spray can in my sweatshirt pocket under my jacket and the only thing holding it up is my arm. The pose is ackward and doesn't allow me to really move. I keep gestures to a minimum. I also make the mistake of not making enough eye-contact. The cop singles me out and tells me to stand over with his 'buddy', I start to feel sick and wish I was sober. I move very slowly and keep my distance; my breath is tainted with alcohol and my eyes red. I can smell the alcohol on myself, my heart is beating so fast I can't take it. The cop asks me a lot of questions about what I was doing that night and why I was out so late. I made up a story about walking from a friends house. I messed up on the location. I was almost certain that I was slurring my speech or that I was obviously intoxicated. He asked me If I was partying. No. He asked me if I was drinking. No. Smoking pot. No. I lied to him and looked him in the eye. This went on for a good while, making up stories - trying to be as vague as possible. And timing, lots of stalling. At this point I totally thought we were fucked. I had no doubt in my mind that I was about to be searched. Had I even lifted my arm I would've been arrested. I was waiting, waiting for them to search me, it had to come. The cop kept asking me questions, he paused at one point and looked over at his partner (who was talking to my friends) and then turned to face him. The officer was walking over. My friends exchanged some freindly words with the cop and I was questioning what just really happened. The cops said that they were happy we weren't doing anything bad and that we weren't doing anything wrong. We kept on talking like our lives depended on it, threw them a smile and tried to not look nervous/high/drunk. The two cops got in their cars and drove off after exchanging a few more words. Still in shock (relief), we ran back to our friend's house to have one of the nicest smoke sessions I've had in a while. We kept brining up how fucked we were over the whole situation, then we'd bust out laughing. We eventually had told each other the stories we told the cops and they were completely different. It was hilarious some of the lines they used to talk themselves out of it. I'm still looking back on that situation and laughing. We had hit up that intersection about fifteen minutes before that incident, I don't even think the paint had fully dried. My other two freinds were stocked up on paint and were carrying weed and a pipe on them. I am so thankfull that cops don't do handshakes lol.
I used to paint, but I used to carry a bag opposed to single cans usually unless it was a brief bombing session, but no matter what, if some piggies decided to talk towards me. I'd be off. You're a brave man.