So, I was 18 and driving home rather stoned from a friend's place round about midnight. In the middle of a cross roads, I was pulled over. The reason was probably the many metal band stickers on my rusty, tiny red car. The cop, an older fellow, asked me if I had been drinking, to which I answered truthfully that I hadn't and of course wouldn't have been driving if I had. Then, while his partner checked my ID, he kept asking about my evening and I went off on a long tangent about having watched Men in Black 2 and how, precisely, it sucked; all the while thinking how obviously stoned I must come across but I couldn't keep myself from blabbering about how much I didn't like that movie. At some point, maybe to the relief of the copper, the partner returned with my ID and everything had checked out. So just before turning around and leaving, he asked me if I had "taken something". Truthfully, I answered no, but he pulled another Columbo and asked specifically if I had been smoking weed. Obivously, I lied. He wished me a good night and save travels.
Earlier that year, me and friends had gone to a metal festival in the netherlands and crossing the border into germany, we were pulled over. Cars were searched, dogs were brought over, but despite the long hair and run down cars, half an hour later the border agents had to deal with disappointment and we were once again on our merry way. Weeks later, I found a baggy of temple baal hashish in the pocket of precisely the jacket I was wearing while the searched the cars. I must have been there then, too, because I remembered buying it but had forgotten about it being in my pocket.
In stark contrast to this kind of absurd luck, I once in my life kicked a trash can out of youthful exuberance and boredom and there was an undercover cop right there, watching. It lead to nothing more than a stern talking to by a youth judge. shrugs
All in all, I'm fairly harmless, I guess.
