Cool Cop Stories

Littering and…

With my recent decision to correct my attitude towards police and law enforcement, it seemed right to tell the cool cop stories that inspired the change in the first place.

This night I came pretty close to getting into serious trouble.

The scene: Our apartment, a large empty field, and a private country club.

The setting: Late Saturday night.

The situation: My roommates and I were drinking some beers and looking for something to do.

The story: One Saturday night my roommates and I were hanging around our apartment, drinking a few beers and smoking a little. It was like any other normal Saturday evening, except there was no party to go to. We were lookin’ to go out and do something, having become bored flicking between T.V. channels or wandering back and fourth from the living room to the balcony.

One of my friends, lets call him Rick, had been carrying a golf club around with him everywhere, commenting  every now and then how he would “bust up” anyone who tried to break into our apartment. It didn’t take long before a few others started wielding golf clubs of their own.

While messing around with Rick’s golf equipment, a set of glow-in-the-dark golf balls were discovered. Everyone was a few beers deep at this point except one of my buddies who we can call Thomas. At any rate, the idea of smacking around some light up golf balls in the dark sounded amazing to everyone except Thomas, who didn’t have the few beers of encouragement we did. We gave him shit for not drinking or smoking, but little did we know, before the night was over his sobriety would save us.

We loaded up the clubs, balls, beers, and weed into the car and headed out. I got stuck with the middle seat, or the bitch seat as we called it, but this would prove an advantage later. We drove to a large empty field, and Rick got out and lifted the chain blocking the parking lot entrance, allowing us to drive smoothly under it.

In that field we had a grand old time. We stood at opposite ends, hitting the balls back and fourth, watching and dodging the neon green, yellow, and pink lights as they streaked about in the dark, with beers and bowl hits everywhere in between.

I don’t know how, or why anyone thought it would be a good idea, but we decided to go drive around in the private country club down the road from our apartment complex. I’m not sure how we failed to realize how bad of an idea it was. Yeah sure, seven dudes all with golf clubs, packed into a car smelling like marijuana and booze wont look suspicious.

Thomas drove us into the club and around into a parking lot outside what appeared to be the main building. A security car was parked in front and as we approached a light came on inside, revealing a guy talking on a phone. At that point Rick started tripping out, thinking the guy was calling the cops and the rest of us were like “nah dude, you’re just paranoid.”

Turns out the guy WAS calling the cops, and the security guard must have thought we were up to some shady shit because not one but three police cars surrounded us right as we were leaving. I remember sitting in the backseat, looking at all the lights flashing, very aware of the marijuana in my pocket and open beer cans on the floor. Yet for some reason I wasn’t nervous or scared, I just remember thinking, “well, I might be going to jail tonight.”

We were ordered out of the car, and since I was in the bitch seat I had a few moments to cram my one-hitter down into the seat crevice. There was no way, though, to hide the little tin that held the weed so I just left it on the seat. They searched us then the car while I watched from afar.

One of the eight cops there must have been watching me pretty closely because once the tin was found, and we were asked who it belonged to, one of them said something like “It’s him, the guilt is all over his face,” as he mad-dogged the shit outta me. I was like WTF but was also slightly impressed on how he was able to read me like that. I guess they’re trained in that sort of thing.

Anyways, we stood there for a while as they ran the numbers or did the paperwork or whatever it is they do, then one of them asked the question: “Well, what do we want to do with them?” and my friends and I just waited in silence to hear our fate: “We’ll just let them go.”

I was like “whaaaaat!” I mean, we were trespassing, had marijuana and open alcohol in the car and they were letting us go. Now, if we hadn’t had sober Thomas as the driver, it could have turned out way worse for us. One officer poured out the open beer cans we had, then asked us to open the trunk, and tossed the tin inside. Holy shit! They gave us our weed back!? We received no ticket or penalty, were allowed to keep our weed, and were let go with nothing more than a gentle GTFO.

Later on, when the magnitude of the situation hit me, I realized how fortunate we had been. Obviously were were breaking several laws, but since we had a sober driver and weren’t causing trouble or doing stupid shit we didn’t get in trouble. As long as you don’t act like a punk-ass kid, and treat the police officers with respect and even joke around with them, it will work in your favor.