About a decade ago I was living in a major southern US city in the more modestly priced part of an upscale area of town. I came back to the area from work fairly early in the afternoon, rounded the bend, and saw both sides of the street littered with unmarked police cars and vans, with many, many extremely large men in suits and sunglasses running around, directing the hapless local cops to do this and that. I'm talking the whole American militarized authority jamboree and then some: dogs, rifles, lights flashing, citizens being shooed away. A big SWAT-looking van poking out of a driveway. Maybe 3 dozen official looking people all told. US law enforcement is nothing if not histrionic and self-important in how it occupies physical space, but this presence was more than just the usual overreaction to a cat stuck in a tree. I remember thinking "uh-oh" and really meaning it.
Of course I couldn't get into my parking lot -- I lived across the street a few doors down, and the cops weren't letting anyone through -- so I parked nearby and walked back over and began to chat up some neighbors, exchanging speculation on what the hell it could be. Obviously they were FBI, we all agreed - that's the cyborg-looking guys in suits, surely all grown in the same vat near Quantico? And the crime? Terrorism was the consensus, though one guy was sure it was counterfeiting money. (I remember that because he insisted that he knew someone "who used to do that".) The vibe standing there was equal parts morbid curiousity and real nerves -- what if someone was making bombs in our quiet residential neighborhood?
After a while someone got up the nerve to ask one of the bewildered local cops what the heck was going on. "That's not the FBI," he says, "that's the US Postal Police." Apparently someone was "sending marijuana in the mail".
This effing country, right?
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