Just thought I'd mention this. For the memories.
A few weeks ago, myself, Chris and Mason went on a smoke run after school. See, we all had a few hours between the time when class ended and sports started, so we got a senior, Roman, to drive us out to Bull's Field to suck down a J of sweet sweet Blueberry cheeba.
(Roman's a great guy and a great sport through all this, by the way.)
He has a college interview in 20 minutes (told you he was a great guy), so he doesn't get stoned. He drives down a slight slope and parks in snowy Bull's Field while the three of us stooges go behind some bushes to smoke up. All goes well, apart from the freezing cold.
We get back to the car and hop in, reeking like fuck, and the car won't go. Roman tries flooring it while we push, and it works for awhile, so we hop in again. It slides back down the slope. We ended up getting out to push three times before we finally got it far enough up to reach the road on its own.
SECONDS after we all shut our doors, a fucking police car goes cruising by, and he slows down to look at us. Roman had a cigarette.
My heart exploded soon after.
Anybody else got any stories like that?