I consider myself lucky. About 8 years ago, I could potentially have gone to prison for 20+ years.
It all started when I decided to join a band. I know, I know, that’s a great way to start on the path to prison. Anyhow, we would practice in this run-down old building in a very bad part of town. The rest of the band members were heavy drug users and I of course wasn’t. To this day, I’ve never even tried pot.
As we would practice, I couldn’t help noticing the steady stream of people coming in and out of the building. I couldn’t really understand it because it was not exactly a place you’d want to hang out. This was before the days of legal concealed carry in Kansas, so my only weapon was my bass.
Frankly, the band played better when they were high, so I didn’t raise much of a stink over their drug problems. That and they had been to rehab so many times it was pointless to complain. We got pretty good and were writing some great jazz fusion stuff.
Several months after I started with the band, I blew the fuse (yes, it was a fuse, not a breaker) to my wall outlet, so I started looking around for another one to plug in my amp. I walked back behind the drums where there was a curtain. And behind that curtain was something that would make even the most seasoned criminal cringe.
BUSHELS. Not little packages. Not kilos. BUSHELS of pot. Like the size of hay bales. Lots of them.
Then I saw the stack of cocaine. It must have been 100 kilos.
You literally would have needed a forklift and a semi to move this much stuff. Possession with intent? How about RICO charges. How about enough drugs to supply all of Kansas City?
I’m sure you’re wondering if I reported this to the police. The short answer is, no. I had several reasons for not reporting it to the police. First and foremost, I didn’t want to be hunted down by a drug cartel for being a snitch. I’m told they have a lot of resources to devote to killing snitches.
So rather than a) being hunted down and killed by a drug cartel or b) risking being in a room full of several tons of illegal narcotics on a regular basis, I immediately quit the band for “personal reasons” and I never set foot in that building again. I don’t even like to drive by it.
There you have it. I could have single-handedly brought down the Kansas City drug trade. Or more likely, I could have single-handedly gotten killed for sticking my nose into mob business.