Rolling a Joint On the Hood of a Cop Car
by Morgan Martin

At the time, it seemed like a GREAT idea, but in retrospect, I’m not so sure.  In retrospect, it might NOT have been the brainiest or wisest moment in their lives.  Hindsight is 20/20, they say, and looking back, most of them would agree this was probably NOT the best of plans.  In retrospect, there might have been BETTER places to roll the joint.  The hood of a cop car, might seem like the most poetic ideal surface to use for this particular activity, but as it turns out, there are probably BETTER places to spread out your MASSIVE pile of weed, and start removing the seeds.  Looking back wistfully, later, and tracing the logic on a graph somewhere, at a hemp convention say, there might have been one or two flaws in the methodology applied here.    In retrospect, other surfaces might come to mind, other species of car.  A parking enforcement vehicle say, or a mailtruck, might have worked just as well,  if they had been thinking a bit more clearly.  In short, it was a foolhardy undertaking, in the best of light, but this awareness did not register with them until some time later.

Why THIS hood?  Why THIS car?  Why HERE?  Why NOW?  These and other obvious questions come to mind.
Why did Penny dump the weed out on that particular hood?  What could have possessed Penny?
The hood wasn’t even very CLEAN!  She COULD have chosen a CLEANER, more sanitary hood certainly.  What the fuck Penny?

What the fuck?  Now there’s all this DIRT in our weed!!!  At least choose a CLEAN cop cars hood.  Jesus…This hood is FILTHY!!  All that DIRT is going to be in our JOINT now….you could have at least WIPED a spot clean first, instead of just DUMPING out that HUGE pile of pot on this DIRTY hood.  Look, that hood over there is WAY cleaner, why THIS hood?  Why Penny? Why and What the FUCK?

As they were scratching away, cleaning the seeds, out strolls, you’ll never guess…a police officer.    A  sturdy no nonsense type of fellow he was too, not likely to see the humor and verite at work here.

At first he didn’t seem to notice the specific activity in progress, but as he grew closer, and his frown grew longer, the kids began to suspect he was on to them.  He MIGHT figure out what they’re doing, it suddenly seemed quite possible.  He may be familiar with this ritual.

Maybe he’s seen exposes, training videos, what have you, and he KNOWS about weed cleaning, and the techniques involved.  Soon he would be close enough to smell it, and he might identify the “telltale smell.”   He MIGHT be opposed to the operation on general terms, and COULD make a real fuss.  He could be fussy.  He could be the fussy type.   There could be a trace of disapproval now written on his face, and yes, yes, you’d have to call that a frown he was wearing.    There’s really no other word you can use.  It definitely was NOT an ear to ear rastaman smile, that much was clear.  He did NOT break into song and sing “don’t worry, be happy” although…wouldn’t THAT have been interesting…wouldn’t THAT have been interesting if he had started dancing and singing, and if he broke out a large hooka from the trunk.  Maybe that’s what everyone was half expecting.  Oh goody, the nice officer is here now to break out a large GOLDEN hooka from the trunk!!  Maybe he’s got some good hash he can mix in with our schwag here…

Why the long face officer?

“Uh, what’s going on here?” he asked.

Penny, who was still rolling seeds down the front of the hood with great skill, but apparently not in any rush.  Um, Penny, could you maybe speed up this process a little? Um, Penny.  Everyone appreciates Penny’s great immaculate skill and dexterity with  twisting up a joint, well, ok, not everyone, there’s a cop here now that does NOT seem entirely supportive, but Penny really wasn’t paying him much attention.  She is an ARTIST, and she was really focused on her task, and not thinking too much about grumpy long faced police officers that might somehow randomly stumble upon this car.  I think she was actually humming…

Gee. I wonder if this officer will remember where he parked?  Maybe its a LOST police car!  Maybe that’s what they were thinking, this particular cop car is LOST, and the officer will NEVER find it.  Maybe they thought it was an ABANDONED cop car, left to perish and have joints rolled upon it.  How many OTHER joints had been rolled on this old abandoned cop car.  How many delightful parties were thrown on this hood.  How many seeds had already rolled into the cracks of this hood.  Maybe this was Amsterdam, and the officer would join them.
Maybe the officer would look kindly upon them, and grace them with his most heartfelt blessing and support.  “Hey, kids, nice to see you engaged in such a productive fun activity this day.   Here, have the keys to my car, and my gun!!   And…hold on, let me bust out my GOLDEN hooka which I keep in the trunk for JUST this sort of occasion.  Hold on, wait one sec, I have a gorgeous GOLDEN hooka in my trunk, seriously, hold on kids, let me grab that for ya…its always packed with confiscated weed, I pretty much always have some, hold on…

Maybe he had a lava lamp on the dashboard, and a bumper sticker that reads “gas, grass or ass, nobody rides for free”.  Now THERE’S a bumper sticker you don’t see on cop cars everyday.  Only in California.

Penny looked up and saw the officer, now standing right beside her.  She looked him up, and she looked him down.   Her eyes roamed from the tip of his policemen’s hat, to the toe of his shiny policemen’s boots.  She may have licked her lips slowly, to moisten them properly for the operation at hand.  She noticed his shiny badge, his nightstick, his mace on the belt, and the gun in its holster, on his belt.  She continued rolling the joint with her hands, while she looked at the officer.  No, INSPECTED the officer from top to bottom.  Then she lost interest in him and bent her head down to lick the paper, and finish the proceedure, as the officer followed her every move with his eyes silently beside her.

Now the proceedure was complete, and a fine example of her exemplary rolling technique was dangling from her lips provocatively.

“Got a light sailor?” she said.

Apparently she thought he was a sailor.

Its just a friendly sailor, she must have thought.

Up strolls a friendly sailor, is what she must have thought to herself.

Enter. Sailor. Stage Left. She may have scripted.

Penny is always confusing friendly sailors with policemen.  Its the darndest thing.  She reminds me of OLIVE OIL in those popeye cartoons, all arms, nothing but long gangly  ten foot stick arms flailing about like a windmill.  HELLLLP!!!  HELLLP!!!!  HAHA. No just kidding, I’m fine.  Wait let me go so I can roll a joint for us on this dirty cop car hood.

At the moment, she was the picture of calm and she leaned back against the car, joint dangling still from her mouth.

The officer was now probably in shock, and couldn’t really seem to find words to express himself.  He was tongue tied now maybe.  What to do? What to do?  Should I frisk her?  Should I cuff her?  Should I cuff THEM ALL.  Should I…A) Call for backup or B) Use my STUN GUN, and STUN them all one by one or C)  Use the choke hold on their leader to damage their morale.  But who is their LEADER??

This bunch didn’t seem organized enough to be a GANG.  He may have wondered if we were bloods or crips, since some of us were wearing blue, and some red.  He might have really been thrown by that.  Lets see, THAT one’s wearing red, must be a blood.  That one has some LIGHT blue..do crips wear LIGHT blue?  Its almost a pastel powder-puff blue…do crips wear PASTELS? He may have been pondering these, and other profound questions, OR, he was thinking about a serious crime in progress because…

Actually, I think he may have had OTHER things on his mind because, his radio squawked and without a word, he walked around, jumped in the drivers seat, and basically drove off rolling his eyes, with weed and pot seeds flying off his hood.

“Shit PENNY, there was like half an OUNCE there, what the fuck Penny!  You couldn’t just put out a few joints?
You just had to dump that ENTIRE pile of kickass weed there, on that dirty ass cop car hood.  what the fuck Penny! what the FUCK!?!?

But Penny wasn’t paying any attention to us now…her eyes glazed over from the chronic she was now smoking and she swayed in a trance looking off where the sailor had just boarded his vessel, off to war…off to war…off to war, she must have thought.  He’s gone now, FAREWELL, FARE THEE WELL, FAREWELL, BON VOYAGE, my DEAR soldier, my dearest soldier, my DARLING dear soldier, I shall write, I shall write my love, I will be waiting, I shall wait for thee, I shall… I shall…..

“Um, Penny, what the fuck??  Are you ever going to pass that thing Bogart!”