I was around my friend’s house a few years back around Christmas time. We were on a curve of a small road that snaked through the mountains and it was raining like hell. We had met up with the dealer and we were buying an ounce and a half. It was really dank nug and it was a good price, the dealer hops in my car with all the cronic in 2 big jars and lays it all out, uses my scale to start weighing it.

So here we are, two cars on the side of the road, interior lights on in mine, pot all spread out with the scale and cash everywhere, and all of a sudden this sheriff’s car just rolls on by kinda slowly. He didn’t stop but that scared the fuck out of me. Not really worried about a ticket but about not coming home with any weed.