Let’s take a minute and flash back to the good ol’ seventies.
Working undercover narcotics back then was a little more informal than it is today. A “flower child” mentality still prevailed in certain segments of the drug scene. This allowed for spontaneous and often funny moments.
At Purdue University, three undercover narcotics agents had been assigned to look for possible links to the drug culture. While cruising near the campus late one summer afternoon, they came upon a bearded hitchhiker with sun-bleached, shoulder-length hair. Peace signs adorned his Levi jacket and his army surplus backpack. Not having anything really pressing at the moment, the officers pulled over their Volkswagen van and offered the man a lift.
“Far out, man,” he said, climbing in.
Soon the three of them were chatting with their new passenger as he babbled on about Nixon, Vietnam, and how much fun it would be to get high. Before long he had pulled out a fat marijuana cigarette.
“If you guys want to score really big,” he offered, “I know just the place.”
This was too easy. The agents eagerly agreed to take the man wherever he wanted to go. He’d make the buy, and they’d make the bust.
No one was home at the first house they tried. Their luck didn’t get any better until the passenger remembered a dealer in another town. Would they drive the extra fifty miles to get the drugs?
“Sure, why not?” they said. After all, they were just out looking for a good time. Then, on a lark, they decided to pick up a friend of theirs, the crime analyst for their narcotics unit.
Now Roger, the analyst, didn’t fit in with the rest of the group, who were all clad in leather jackets and sporting long hair and beards. Roger was clean-shaven, with a short, military-style haircut, and wore a tie and glasses. The passenger didn’t seem to notice. He continued his friendly banter as he gave directions.
Before long the merry band of five was on its way in search of drugs, which the hitchhiker was readily able to supply. Finally, after a day of wandering from house to house, increasing their illegal stash at each stop, it was time for all good things to come to an end. Telling their newfound friend that they had some place they wanted to take him, the agents decided to wrap up the evening and drove him to the police station.
“This will be your new home for a while,” the agents said to the passenger, who by this time was somewhat stoned and obviously flabbergasted. All he could do was shake his head as they explained they were police officers and that he was under arrest.