What do you do when you find $175,000-worth of drugs stashed on your property?
I am standing chest-deep in a dank, muddy concrete-lined hole in Silver Lake, staring eye-level into a duffel bag full of high-grade drugs.
It smells strongly of marijuana — despite the fact that someone sealed it tightly into jars, Ziplocs and professionally vacuum-sealed pouches before THEY HID IT IN MY BACK YARD.
I am starting to panic.
I already did the full Tex-Avery-wolf AOOOOGAH! upon discovering the mammoth sackful of dope — estimated to be worth somewhere north of $175,000. My jaw already dropped. My eyes already bugged out. Now my heart is thumping my gullet. Breathing is getting iffy.
I try to speak. I think my exact words to the solar-panel technician standing equally open-mouthed next to me are something to the effect of “Holy. Fucking. SHIT!”
H/T to Matt Welch:
This is AMAZING. RT @mackreed So – I just found $175,000 in weed stashed in my back yard. True story. bit.ly/WLPyHX
— Matt Welch (@mleewelch) December 6, 2012
He was way too apologetic in the note to the cacher/trafficker. Posting the pic of the officer examining the cache would have been sufficient. The only text that needs to be appended is “The local police department found something of yours. Call them at (vice squad line) to get it back.”
Comment by Chris Taylor — December 6, 2012 @ 15:21
That would work. One way or the other…
Comment by Nicholas — December 6, 2012 @ 15:55
I understand why he did it, I just don’t think it’s the right approach. Like hey man, I would totally have let you stash your weed there if it was legal, but you know, the pigs don’t understand so I have to let them take it.
You don’t want to be too much of an ass and antagonise the trafficker, but on the other hand, you don’t want to be too sympathetic, either. He might just be stupid enough to dump another stash somewhere else on your territory, if you seem like you’re on his side.
In any event, if I were Mr. Mack Reed, I wouldn’t be too concerned about a Tarantino-esque slaughter of his family by vicious drug lords; that takes a lot of time, energy and money. For a tiny fraction of that 175 grand the trafficker could set himself up with VOIP and a few proxies, dump a few grams of something here and there on Mr. Reed’s property, then phone up the local SWAT team and say “I’m strung out on X, and I’ve just shot my wife and kids.”
Then wait for the local cops to come and do your dirty work, no muss no fuss. Why waste energy doing something yourself when it can be contracted out to a highly professional outfit that’ll do it for the cost of VOIP and moderate telecom knowledge?
Comment by Chris Taylor — December 6, 2012 @ 17:40