5 of us were driving from HB to a Vegas for a Halloween show (1999 or 2000 ... they all blend together). We loaded my cargo van all plastered with stickers with 2 short couches, one facing front and one back. I really wanted to take a break from driving, but I am always nervous about other people driving my cargo van. The visibility isn't all that good, especially with a curtain separating the front from the mini-living room in the back. But I did it anyways for some reason. 

The van was packed with open containers and drugs (2cb, mushrooms, buds, probably acid), and we were deep into a bowl-smoking session, which had started shortly after getting onto the highway in HB. I guess we were just hoping for the best.

We must have been about 2 exits from Tropicana... So close. I'm facing the back and notice through the transparent Phish stickers on the back windows that there is a police officer with his lights on directly behind us. We were so close... I yell to the driver that we're being pulled over and that he needs to pull over. The driver - Frank - responds, "I don't see him," and continues driving as if I hadn't even said anything to him - as if nothing had happened.

At this point in time, I look back at my buddy Brett, who looks like he's been stabbed in the stomach. He's trying to fathom the consequences of what's happening and doesn't even know where to begin. His conclusion is that he freezes, totally panicked, eyes totally popping out. All of the goodness we had extracted from his bowl had totally transformed in his brain into horrible badness.

The police officer pulls up to our right and decides to look into the eyes of the front right passenger (Xandor) with pure hatred. Some sort of semi-verbal communication occurs, perhaps involving an officer's fist or something. Xandor - one of the most harmless nicest guys I know - is receiving beams of evilness from a cop a few feet away from him for about 10 seconds straight. We still don't even know what offense we've committed, but this guy really hates us. What happens next was totally unexpected.

The police officer races off real fast and pulls over another vehicle several cars up and to our right. He's already pulled the guy over and is walking up to the car by the time we pass him. He waves for us to pull over several times as we pass him, hatred still beaming in our direction. But Frank decides not to pull over, and we without incident mosey on to have a great weekend.

I guess it takes more than a very angry cop to stop a determined group trying to have a Phish experience. If things are looking bad, first try ignoring them and maybe they'll go away. A real case of somebody else's problem.

- Reeves