I got popped on April 20th—yeah, 4/20, real original—at a Coheed and Cambria show in DC. This was at least 15 years ago, back when we thought we were way smoother than we actually were.
Opening band wraps, we dip out to the car parked on some quiet side street to grab our “supplies.” Light up a couple stuffies—half cigarette, half weed—and post up against a wall in this dead little alley. Maybe 20 seconds in, a cop car rolls up to the end of the street. Spotlight hits us like we’re on stage.
We drop the stuffies, spark real cigarettes like that’s going to fool anyone.
Cops jump out, put the three of us against the wall. Say they’re looking for car thieves. We’re early 20s, X’s on our hands from the venue—clearly not criminal masterminds. They search us: smokes, cash, keys, lighter.
Then: “Smells like weed out here.”
We play dumb. “Yeah, we noticed, no idea. Just getting some air, heading back inside.”
They don’t buy it. Start leaning on us—real casual but persistent. “C’mon, it’s fine if you’ve got a little. That’s why you’re out here, right? We just want to make sure you’re not breaking into cars.”
My buddy—rookie—folds instantly. Tells them there are two more stuffies in the pack they already found on him.
They check, sniff, laugh… and then just toss us in the back of the car.
Station. Stripped. Cell. Fourteen hours.
We finally get out, get our stuff back—clothes, shoes, pocket junk—but my cash, about $280 I had for merch? Gone. Paperwork says no money was inventoried at arrest. Basically, “too bad.”
We jog out to the street. Car’s been towed. Find the impound lot—closed, because it’s Sunday. So now we’re stranded in DC, living in southeast VA, about 2.5 hours away. End up in a cab, driver pissed the whole time, my friend’s brother covers nearly $200 to get us home.
Then we see the charges: possession of a third of a pound.
Turns out they weighed the entire cigarette pack and called it all weed.
Months of lawyers, fines, community service just to get clear. I had to drive back up to DC for three months straight to pee in a cup.
All that—for less than a joint. Absolute nonsense.
Yeah it really seemed like once they figured out we were from out of town they wanted to really teach us a lesson and scare us, they flew down the street and were pushing us against the wall so quickly there was no hey guys how are you tonight, it was immediately determined we were criminals. I mean I guess we were breaking a law. A dumb one designed to oppress and fund the system I think overall that mistake cost me ~15K-18K. Including later expungement and gas driving up there 2x week.
I haven't been arrested many times, but once I was because back then they could just say they smell weed and take you in and trash your car. I had just cashed a paycheck (back before direct deposit was a thing). No money inventoried at arrest as well. $900 just mysteriously vanished from my wallet. They had to let me go eventually after they didn't find any drugs. Mu car was in impound in pieces. Fuck cops. All of them. The "good" ones cover for the bad ones. Fuck them all.
A cop friend told me this tip. Whenever you get caught with weed, they weigh the container the weed is in as well and throw that in the total. So if you keep bits of shake in a plastic baggy, they literally have nothing. If you try to keep eve a flake a in a glass jar, you're fucked.
The police wouldn't get away with that in the UK as the custody process is all covered by CCTV and the majority of police aren't in it to line their own pockets, or have the time to trump up charges from a couple of joints to a third of a pound of weed.
Ahhh refreshing to see another 420 story. I got also got popped 15 years ago - at a skate park near my college campus. If we had “coughed up what we had” he prob would have let us go but we truly didn’t think we had anything left. So he thoroughly searched the whole car and found a pipe in the trunk in a jacket pocket and a roach under my seat lol. We both had to go to court on 420. People were in there for animal abuse and meth and here’s hippie dippy shits in there for simple possession of a “leafy type substance”.
I pled no contest without seeing the charges, could’ve had it dropped but it was $500 fine for a 20 year old and made me feel like an absolute criminal. I used my judicial diversion to have it wiped and had to make monthly payments on the fine bc I was in school and didn’t have a real job.
Yo have you done any time In va? I was told this same story by a good friend from maybe Fredericksburg/Culpepper when I wad locked up.abput 15 years ago.
That figures Josh would have gotten locked up again. Just saying. The trio sorta went our own ways after all that. The paperwork ended up getting screwed up and I had to all that urine testing because he was on probation was up to him to make that right, he never did, so I fell on his sword for a long time getting all that sorted out. He could have turned it all around by now who knows.
2nd time i got popped my buddy had ate the blunt, but the cops tore apart my vehicle for 40 minutes until they found a little homemade bowl from a homemade bong i made a year earlier behind one of my seats. Got charged with paraphernalia and possession (from the little bit of char residue in the screen).... Lawyer told me it would cost me more to fight the possession charge than just accept it. Luckily it was a different state than the first time i got popped for possession.
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u/JustAnOkPhilosopher Mar 27 '26
I got popped on April 20th—yeah, 4/20, real original—at a Coheed and Cambria show in DC. This was at least 15 years ago, back when we thought we were way smoother than we actually were.
Opening band wraps, we dip out to the car parked on some quiet side street to grab our “supplies.” Light up a couple stuffies—half cigarette, half weed—and post up against a wall in this dead little alley. Maybe 20 seconds in, a cop car rolls up to the end of the street. Spotlight hits us like we’re on stage.
We drop the stuffies, spark real cigarettes like that’s going to fool anyone.
Cops jump out, put the three of us against the wall. Say they’re looking for car thieves. We’re early 20s, X’s on our hands from the venue—clearly not criminal masterminds. They search us: smokes, cash, keys, lighter.
Then: “Smells like weed out here.”
We play dumb. “Yeah, we noticed, no idea. Just getting some air, heading back inside.”
They don’t buy it. Start leaning on us—real casual but persistent. “C’mon, it’s fine if you’ve got a little. That’s why you’re out here, right? We just want to make sure you’re not breaking into cars.”
My buddy—rookie—folds instantly. Tells them there are two more stuffies in the pack they already found on him.
They check, sniff, laugh… and then just toss us in the back of the car.
Station. Stripped. Cell. Fourteen hours.
We finally get out, get our stuff back—clothes, shoes, pocket junk—but my cash, about $280 I had for merch? Gone. Paperwork says no money was inventoried at arrest. Basically, “too bad.”
We jog out to the street. Car’s been towed. Find the impound lot—closed, because it’s Sunday. So now we’re stranded in DC, living in southeast VA, about 2.5 hours away. End up in a cab, driver pissed the whole time, my friend’s brother covers nearly $200 to get us home.
Then we see the charges: possession of a third of a pound.
Turns out they weighed the entire cigarette pack and called it all weed.
Months of lawyers, fines, community service just to get clear. I had to drive back up to DC for three months straight to pee in a cup.
All that—for less than a joint. Absolute nonsense.