Tuffy the Drug Dog

Dude, this is unbelievable, this is incredible, dude, I cannot tell you how insane this is, I cannot believe it myself. After we left Denny's yesterday -- man, that Grand Slam was good, I was full! -- when you went to work, I went home, and I was going to do something, I forgot what, and Weisendorf called and asked if I had any pot. And I did -- those two joints you gave me that I asked you for, 'cause, like, the whole day was ahead of me and I didn't have much to do, so, like I told you, I thought maybe I'd want to smoke some. So Weisendorf asks me to bring 'em over, because his parents were out on a cruise -- they'd won a cruise to Alaska on a game show! -- and he had a bunch of people over, and they'd run out of pot. So I figured what the hell and I went over. Well, when I walked in the door, it was obvious: Weisendorf and his friends, few guys, a few girls, had been sitting in his parents' living room for days, probably, just hittin' the bong. They were practically comatose. So I walk in and Weisendorf has already forgotten that he called me and why he called me, he's just sitting there, him and his friends are looking at each other, kind of, just completely stoned out of their minds. Get this, this is where it gets good: Within a minute of me walking in there, I hardly had time to take in the scene, to put it all together, to say to myself: Check this out, Weisendorf's parents are on an Alaskan cruise, and he's been sitting here for days just gettin' wasted, this is a riot, I was barely formulating that thought, even, when BOOM BOOM BOOM there's this pounding on the door and a big voice says "POLICE OPEN UP!" Well the cops don't wait for anyone to open the door, I hadn't locked it behind me, maybe that's good, otherwise they would've just broken it down, maybe, and these cops just storm the place, you know, like you see in movies some time, five or six cops stomp into Weisendorf's parents place -- and it's pretty nice, have you been there, up at the top of Hatteras, the two-story with the modern architecture? Nice view up there. Anyway, they start shouting at us, "EVERYBODY SIT ON THE FLOOR," so we all sit on the floor and then I see -- they've got a dog. A German shepherd. And not just any German shepherd. Tuffy. The department's new drug dog. See, I had read an article in the newspaper last week about this dog. They trained this dog to sniff pot, heroin and hash and whatever the fuck other drugs they want the dog to find. And the dog, you know, sense of smell, the dog can find drugs hidden anywhere. So I know: I'm going to jail. I've got two joints stuck in my sock. When they let that dog go that dog is going to run straight to me and sniff my sock and the cops are going to pull the joints out of my sock and take me to jail. This is so fucked, I'm saying to myself, while the cops are yelling at everybody: "Whose house is this? Where are your parents? Why aren't you in school?" Weisendorf is trying to answer them, you know, like anybody would, he's telling 'em that he graduated from high school last year and his parents are letting him take a year off to decompress. Pretty cool of them, you know. My parents wouldn't let me do that. I had to sign up for city college. Did I tell you about my report card? "Units Attempted: 1. Units Completed: 0." It's classic. Jenny told me I should have it framed. So Weisendorf is telling the cops that his parents won a cruise on "The Price Is Right" but they're not really listening, which I thought was weird, because, c'mon, somebody wins a cruise on "The Price Is Right," that's funny, y'know? I thought the cops would think that was funny. If I were a cop, I'd think it was funny. You come into this house, a bunch of kids are all stoned out of their gourds, the parents are away on a cruise they won on "The Price Is Right" ... Anyway, the cops are looking around, they're checkin' us out, I don't know why they're there, maybe some neighbor called the police? Maybe they thought there was dealing? Maybe they had the music loud the night before? I'm thinking all this, and also, I have to pee, because I drank a lot of coffee at Denny's and I forgot to pee when I went home, and I'm sitting on Weisendorf's floor and I'm thinking, shit that dog is going to find the joints in my sock and the cops are going to take me to jail. So this is bad. One of the cops points to the bong on the coffee table and says “What’s that?” like he didn’t know. Weisendorf plays along. He says it’s a water pipe, but just for tobacco. So the cop loses patience, enough of this bullshit, he says, and he tell the cop with the dog to let the dog go. And like I said, I know that dog is going to come right over and sniff at my sock and I’m going to jail. So they took the leash off the dog, and the dog is ready to do his thing, but then … he just looks around. “Go Tuffy Go!” the cop says, all encouraging-like. But Tuffy is just standing there, looking around. He looks confused. Then he walks over to the couch, he sniffs at the couch, he looks at the cop who had him on the leash, like he’s not sure about what’s going on and what he’s supposed to do, then he walks over to a spot on the carpet, he sniffs that, then he walks over to a wall, he sniffs that. I figured out what was happening before the cops did: Weisendorf and his friends had smoked so much pot since his parents went on the “Price Is Right” cruise that everything in the house was covered in smoke residue. It covered the walls, it had soaked into the couch, it got absorbed into the carpet. Tuffy was wagging his tail. He was finding pot everywhere. There was so much pot that got smoked in that house that the smell covered up the two joints I had in my sock. The cops started laughing. “What’s the matter, Tuffy?” one of them said. “Can’t find anything?” They turned to make fun of the guy with the leash. “Wow, Sterling, that dog sure does a great job.” So the cops are wondering what to do next, Wiesendorf and me and his friends are still sitting in a circle on his living room floor, and Tuffy is walking around the house, wagging his tail and barking every now and then. Completely useless. So I take a chance: “Officer, can I go? I just came over on my way to class to borrow a notebook, I gotta go to class, I don’t wanna miss my class.” The cop says sure but as I’m walking out the door he says, “Wait a minute.” Oh shit, I say to myself, the gamble didn’t pay off, he’s going to bust me now. “What about your notebook?” he says. “Oh, that’s cool, I can see it’s a bad time, I’ll just use the ole noggin’.” So then I go. I was going to go home and pee. But, get this, this next part is amazing, too, my day isn’t over: As I’m walking down the sidewalk back to my van, up comes Marshall Cadence. Tall blond guy, nice looking, the girls love him. I tell him, dude, turn around quick, the cops are at Weisendorf’s house with Tuffy the drug dog. So he turns around and walks away with me. “Got any pot?” he asks. So I tell him I’ve got your two joints and he tells me to hop in his car and we’ll go smoke ’em. Fine, I say. Where we going? So he tells me what he wants to do. Check this out. This is what this guy does for fun. He goes down and drives by the transvestite prostitutes on Santa Monica Boulevard. Oh yeah. Just what I wanna do – not. He sees the look on my face and he’s all, “Whoa, I’m not gay, I just like lookin’ at the freaks when I’m stoned.” By now, we’re getting on the freeway, and I’m thinking, fuck, I just missed getting busted by Tuffy the drug dog and now I’m in this car with Marshall, and his idea of fun is checking out tranny hookers. So we get to Santa Monica Boulevard, and like he said, there they are, walking the sidewalk and Marshall’s all “Check ’em out, check ’em out.” And I’m like, whatever man, yeah, cool, now let’s go home. But he’s all, no let’s go talk to one! And that was it. I told him no way, you can get busted for that, and he’s all no, man, no, I’ve done it, it’s fun. And he’s: “I’m not gay,” and then I had enough and said: “Dude, sounds pretty gay to me,” so I make him let me out before he gets us both arrested for soliciting tranny prostitutes on Santa Monica Boulevard and I walk back to Cahuenga and wait at the Greyhound station for an hour -- finally, I use the head and take a pee, I've had to pee all this time, it was getting hard to hold it in at the end -- and catch the bus back to the Valley. Had to have my sister come pick me up at the gas station on Topanga and Ventura and drive me back to the van at Weisendorf’s. Can you believe that? First, I almost get busted by Tuffy the drug dog, then Marshall takes me to Santa Monica Boulevard for the tranny hooker tour and I coulda got busted down there, too, if I’d followed him around doing his stuff, whatever the fuck he does. Let’s go back to Denny’s for breakfast. I’m up for another Grand Slam. Remind me not to drink so much coffee, though. Sorry to wake you, again, man. You got any more pot? I don’t have anything to do today, either.