Once when Officer Donna McCown was working narcotics in a large southwestern city, her department head assigned her to secure two hundred dollars’ worth of crack cocaine from a known drug dealer who had been arrested several times.
McCown had some concerns about the assignment because, as she remembers it, “I’d been around him before and he should have known who I was.” Not only had she been present in the station when he was being booked; she’d also driven around his neighborhood in a marked car and full uniform. She was afraid he might recognize her. But she didn’t realize just how dumb this guy was.
“We met in a motel room that had already been wired for the meeting,” McCown says. “About ten officers were waiting for me outside. The gentleman showed up as expected, but he seemed a little leery at first. He questioned me as to whether I was a police officer, and I responded that I was not, so we proceeded to do the deal.”
But the dealer’s jumpiness continued, increasing McCown’s concerns. Had he recognized her? Was he laying some sort of trap, waiting for her to give herself away?
“This looks like good crack,” she said as loudly as she dared. This was the signal to her backup that the dealer had sold her the dope. But had she said it too loud? Something was clearly wrong, because the dealer grew more fidgety than ever. “Yeah, sure,” he muttered, his eyes darting around the room as he stowed away his two hundred dollars. “Listen, I gotta go now. Got an appointment on the other side of town.”
It turned out she needn’t have worried about the dealer recognizing her. He had other things on his mind.
Tests revealed there was hardly any crack in the concoction he sold her. It had been cut with all sorts of weird stuff, but mostly a sugar substitute. It wasn’t real cocaine. It wasn’t even real sugar. The man had been so embarrassed about the quality of his product and so worried that she would realize how bad it was that he had barely glanced at her.
“I can’t believe you did that to me,” the dealer blurted when McCown and her colleagues arrested him and confiscated his car—rather, his girlfriend’s car.
“I can’t believe you didn’t know me!” she retorted. “And I can’t believe you’re selling Equal for $850 an ounce. It’s a lot cheaper at the grocery store!”