Don’t you hate it when you text somebody trying to buy drugs and it turns out to be a wrong number? Usually that person is like, “Sorry man, I wish I had some!” But it’s really the worst when that wrong number happens to belong to the narcotics captain of the local sheriff’s office. Now that’s a bummer. I mean, what are the chances? Well, the chances were apparently pretty high for a poor soul (who wasn’t high) in Port St. Lucie, Florida this past August.
Texting with the Enemy
According to The Washington Post, William Lamberson was just trying to score a little weed (could have been trying to score worse things, I guess) when he accidentally texted a cop. Perhaps he shouldn’t have used the identifier, “We met at 7-11.” because A—that’s never a good opening line, no matter who you think you’re texting and B—only shady, shady characters strike up a friendship on the honey bun aisle amidst the aromas of stale coffee and lighter fluid.
If people do happen to make a real soul connection and exchange numbers at America’s favorite convenient store, it should never be spoken of again by either party. If he said they met at any other place, perhaps the friendly police officer might have genuinely questioned where he had met this Will fellow whose number he haphazardly hadn’t saved. Maybe, just maybe, the cop would have thought, “…now this is embarrassing, where did I meet Will?” But like any good cop, he read 7-11 and smelled trouble (and stale coffee. Have I mentioned how disgusting I find the stench of 7-11?)
One Man’s Last LOL
Anyway, after the 7-11 reference, the cop chose to go with the flow like he did know the guy. Lamberson went on to ask the captain if he had marijuana. They don’t really clarify exactly how the captain responded to Lamberson’s request other than to turn it back around and ask Lamberson if he had a cocaine hookup. Lamberson of course replied yes and just had to throw in an “lol” because what is a text exchange these days without a few unnecessary doses of “lol” when no one is truthfully laughing out loud? Also, I love how Lamberson managed to have himself a steady source for coke, but had resorted to texting strangers in order to get pot. He probably could have thrown a rock and hit someone with some weed on them. Instead, he learned the hard way.
Not only did Lamberson not receive his weed, he was also arrested. The cocaine texts continued to the point where the narcotics captain requested a specific amount. Once they arranged a date, time and meeting place, Lamberson showed up only to be greeted by a team of narcotics detectives. Again, there isn’t much detail regarding the logistics portion of the texts, but I sure hope Lamberson named his cocaine source, or at least got the name of a good weed dealer from the officer. I doubt it.
An Argument for Calling
This is certainly an example of why the lost art of talking on the phone might need to be reinstated. If Lamberson had called, rather than texted this number, he might have sensed something was off a lot sooner. I never email or text anything I wouldn’t want repeated. Granted, I’m not in the habit of committing crimes or purchasing illegal brain altering substances these days, but I’d hate for anyone to witness a play-by-play of my bed bug scare in black and white writing (that is actually traceable via my complaint email to the Red Lion near the Oakland airport). Or worse, see the evidence of my dissing the cupcakes at a good friend’s baby shower. It’s just best to leave the shit talking and the drug dealing, for person-to-person interactions only.
Oh, and stay the hell away from 7-11.
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