This one is a hoot.
It was my girlfriends birthday and my best friend was here celebrating with us. There was some very loud, aggressive music playing (Opeth - Deliverance) as I made bubble hash in the kitchen. Earlier, I'd been working on my globally-unique expedition vehicle in the back driveway and still had the garage door open, a big mistake.
Across the alley lived the Spucklers (as in Cletus from The Simpsons), filthy, trashy, pilled- and meth'd-out rednecks who moved in when Granny, a lovely lady and longtime friend of mine, had to move to a care facility. They immediately started selling hard dope with lots of ultra-scuzzy traffic and spectacular domestic squabbles that would last for hours. I could write 20 pages......
As my little party raged on, the domestic disturbance across the alley spun out of control after going on for hours. Apparently, a neighbor on the next block opposite me (separated from Spucklers by my alley, my side of the street, the street, other side of street, and alley) called the oinkers after hearing that fat, crazy, pill-addled bitch bellow for hours.
Pigs pulled up in front of my house, one street from Spuck. Knocked on door, but we didn't hear due to the heavy fuckin' metal. They went around the side to the back driveway and entered the open garage as I strained trichomes in the adjacent kitchen. The contents of the house were felonious many times over.
I saw their flashlights and dashed into the attached garage to head them off and prevent entry to the house. They said a disturbance had been reported. I made clear I wasn't the problem, the house held sound well, I was on good terms with my neighbors and loud music was a constant in my world. I pointed at Camp Spuckler across the alley and suggested that was their likely target and promised if we all held our breath enlightenment would follow before exhaling.
The pigs looked puzzled, but within seconds Lady Spuckler went off with bunch of "I'll kill you, motherfucker" and the like. I heaved a huge sigh of relief as the lawdogs exited my property to go play chaperone with those fucktards. They came very close to entering my house and ruining some lives.
After they were done, they had to cross my property to get back to their car, but one of 'em wanted to see inside my expedition vehicle, which I'd turned into a 4x4 luxury hotel room on wheels with a tremendous amount of custom work. The cop was so impressed that he shook my hand, but my hand was covered in kief and WE STUCK TOGETHER, my bare hand to his leather driving/crackhead punching glove.
I stammered something about using adhesives earlier and apologized for my stickiness. We managed to peel our hands apart and everyone went on their merry way. The piggies were quite pleasant and courteous, really.
Since then, the garage door has remained closed when it didn't need to be open. My stupidity almost brought havoc upon us, my lone close call in over 35 years of cannabis-related outlaw behavior. It only takes one little slip up..........
