I have the Med. Space Case, but mine is aerospace aluminum-zinc alloy. I am a good friend of the guy who owns the shop so I usually get the 20% family discount, so it was a buck even cash. But I can rip through the densest wettest buds with no worries and perfect consistency, where cheaper grinders will jump and spin with half the weight.
I was smoking behind a school in my whip, bad idea, on the day after my eighteenth and decided to bring it out with me, generally I take a bit preground with me. Well clearly on this day I have my first encounter with cops. At this time I was smoking and selling very regularly, very casually. The slanging I kept on the real down low, I had no weed that day, but i had a ton of bags and my scale. Counting on a call later that night. I was with one of my friends and we were just contemplating the universe, staring at a brick wall and a rusty door at the end of the parking lot near the teachers back entrance as a sort of cover.
A guy I know driving by saw my car and parked in front of one of the residential dwellings on the parking lots perimeter and walks over. We are there smoking for probably 2.5 hours, it was dusk and now the light is just shining over the horizon. When all of a sudden a flashlight washes over the car. I turn and say theres a cop, no one hears me and continue on talking and laughing and passing. The cop knocks on the passenger window, and plumes of smoke waft into his face and he starts to cough. "Smoking some pot tonight are we. Woo Wee!!" I shut off the music quick and tried to hide the weed, he says give me your id and registration, we all comply.
He walks back to his cruiser and gets in, I have a scale and a grinder, my friend has a jar with 1/2 oz of some just pure stink. I give him my scale and say put in the glove box, I saw on the DEA show once you can stash stuff behind the main compartment when it swings open, he puts it in. My one friend(the scavenger) says " What if he took our ids and now hes going to kill us, so they can't identify us." Just paranoid as hell. I take the grinder and do all I can with in and I crotch it.
The cop comes to my window this time and asks whos car it is and I say my dads. He says put all of your drugs and paraphernalia on the truck and get out and line up and the brink wall. Well at some point it started to storm so now its raining and windy and I am in shorts and a tshirt. We put a grinder, a pipe, a jar of weed, a bag of weed, I dumped my ashtray on it all and like six lighters, we line up and two more cruisers pull up, one has dogs, happy I have my space case
.
We are approached by three cops, the first one and two other guys, that say they are going to search the car, i ask if they need a warrant, he immediately gets defensive " I'll tell you if I find anything I will drag you by your ears through the mud until your back is scared and your guts spill on the pavement.". He puts a hand on this gun and takes a step toward me.
I just say "I don't know thats why I am asking.".
He replies, "Yes we can search your car." And they fucking go to it, they get to the glove compartment and my leg starts trembling, " The cop that came over to watch us said " You cold, or are we getting hot?"
"I think that is pretty obvious. I can't believe how you guys waste public resources." "What do you mean?" "Well I mean 3 cruisers with five cops and a canine unit for a handful of potheads at a elementary school."" You admitting something." My phone rang, it was my mate ready with some nug.
So one thing that had never crossed my mind is that my obsessive nature of collecting Canadian tire money and gas receipts, and the collection of bags in plain sight in the car could lead them to believe I was dealing. Unbeknownst to them I rarely had to walk far to sell weed, so I almost never used my car and certainly never enough to incur hundreds of dollars in gas and over $45 in Cad. Tire. They get to the trunk and it turns out that my friend wanted to try and salvage his jar and tossed in and shut it.
So they got me on suspicion, my friend on possession, and everyone else on simple possession. I called my dad earlier on and was convinced the cop who had asked me my dads number, then got me to call, was going to track some shit and start monitoring my calls. Basic paranoia pothead behavior caused by the media, that I eventually conquered but not really.
So my friends that are simple are let to go, but they can't really because his car is infront of the other house so they walk to the other side of the school and sit on the benches. We are put back in the car while our parents come. They get there, some words are exchanged, T is taken from the car. My grinder weighs heavy in my pocket, I decide the best chance of not getting caught with it is to put it into my shoes, so I break it into the four pieces the shorter ones at the front and the taller at the back, losing about a gram and some long saved crystal-missions.
I walked over to the cruiser, feet getting cut and running along the sharp edges of the lid and threads. I hear the cops words but can't really make sense of them. I just can't put them into a intelligible sentence. He stares at me, I like a zombie say " Yes I understand."
My dad directs me to the car and I limp and make it very obvious to the cops the is something in my shoe, we exchange a look that is burned into my mind ever since, but not only the image the entire state of mind. The cop knew and I knew.
My parents never punished me, in fact now they tolerate home smoke. It turns out the house my friend parked infront of was who called the cops.
Long story short, Space Case are the bomb. But I will be checking those Chromium ones.
Peace
they took a Q, my tin (air tight pvc tub) and my BELOVED SPACE CASE!!! 
