posted on Dec, 22 2018 @ 04:12 PM
In 1994 I was a goofy guy with an Afro and a serious drug and alcohol problem. I was writing for a fanzine called SPORE in which we dealt with
sensitive subjects such as drugs, sex, Satan, and fishing. I had at my disposal at any given time a bottle of liquor and high powered hallucinogenics.
I also had very low paying jobs, which I would constantly quit because I was meant for greater things. I knew my calling, I was different, I was
obnoxious, and I was really #ed up. I was turning into a world class loser.
I was over at a friend’s house one evening who had just made the mistake of moving in with his girlfriend. We were all friends before this move. We
had partied together and had even made a trip down to New Orleans for New Years Eve just a scant 5 months before. The purpose of my visit was to
procure a few ounces of mushrooms from my friend and of course to hang out there and drink and talk and hopefully laugh. That was not to be. The
girlfriend had started her nesting ritual and was getting aggravated by people mussing up said nest. I got in an argument with her and was told to
leave, which I did gratefully.
I drove home to my apartment and about then these shrooms really kicked in, I thought that I could hang out alone, listen to music and drink myself to
sleep. I was wrong, within an hour I was on the phone trying to contact anyone I could think of who might want to do something. Everyone was either
already gone or had other plans. I was bummed out, I drank more and more, and then I drank. It didn’t matter, I never felt drunk. I made long
distance calls to old friends living far away from me. That blew about an hour or two. By this point and time the alcohol was beginning to take over,
really take over - I had polished off nearly a whole fifth of Captain Morgans. This is where things got hazy. This is where I don’t remember.
Luckily at this time I was unemployed and living off my unemployment check and my parents mercy (food.) So when I woke up the next day, spending a
night alone whacked out of my mind didn’t seem like such a dumb thing. I went about my business for the next couple of weeks looking for work and
looking for a good time. One day however I came home to find a small business card taped to my mailbox. It was a plain business card, I nearly threw
it down thinking it was for carpet cleaning or encyclopedias or something, but I looked, and when I looked my heart began to pound. It said, Mr. Bob
Smith (or whatever his name was I don’t remember anymore) Federal Bureau of Investigations. It also said, please call at your earliest convenience,
as we need to speak with you about a serious matter.
My head was reeling, I was just screaming what the #?????? Over and over in my head. It was an unbearably hot day and my 400-pound neighbor lady with
her litter of children came up and said the police were asking her when I normally came home. She said with her black toothy smile, “Don’t worry
honey, I told em I didn’t know nuthin about your cummin’s and goin’s.” “Thanks, I appreciate that.” I went quickly inside and found a
drink�I needed to think. What the # was going on here? I couldn’t remember doing anything in my entire life or even associating with anyone else
in my entire life that would do something dumb enough to involve the FBI. Then again I had been drinking a lot; I had been blacking out a lot. I have
seen what some people were capable of during a blackout. Also, many of my friends were definitely known drug users. Maybe they are going to do
something horrible to me, make me squeal. I am no squealer, damn them! They can # off! Maybe I should just move out of town, disappear. I need to get
the # out of here. I went down to the corner bar. I would just have to drink this off tonight..this is too much stress, reorganize,
regroup�tomorrow. Tomorrow I will know how to deal with this.
The next morning I decided that I was going to have to face the ordeal, just get it over with.
I made the phone call, a sweet sounding voice said, “Federal Bureau of Investigations- this is Mary speaking how can I assist you?” “Umm I am
looking for agent Bob Smith, he was, umm he left a business card here it said that I needed to discuss a serious matter with him.” I was mumbling
like a fool.
“One moment.” Pleasant music played Vivaldi. Then she came back on, “Sir may I have your name please?” I gave it.
“Thankyou.” She quipped pleasantly.
More music, centuries were turning into seconds and vice versa, my mouth was cotton dry. Igor Stravinsky, it was calming.
“Hello, Bob Smith speaking.” Boomed an authoritative and confident voice. I was silent.
I wanted to hang up, I couldn’t I was paralyzed. “Umm, I am calling in reference to the card you left on my mailbox.” I stammered.
He spoke up, I could tell by listening to him that he was a nearly perfect being. “Finally, I have been waiting to talk to you for some time now.
You are a very hard person to find.” “Yeah, thanks I guess.”
“Well let’s get to the heart of the matter, I need to ask you some questions and I want you to answer them as truthfully as possible.”
“OK.” I nearly wept.
“You are the same person that served in the United States Navy with a certain Sean O’leary aren’t you?”
“Yes, yes sir I am.”
“And you are aware of Mr. O’leary’s less than dubious record while serving in the United States Navy?”
“Yes, I mean, has Sean done something?” I was getting interested.
He then barked out. “I will be asking the questions, Ok? See that is how this process works out, I ask all the questions and you answer them.”
“Alright, that is fine.” I answered softly.
He proceeded. “Do you believe that your friend Sean is involved in any drug dealing or smuggling or any such business?”
“No, I am not sure, I haven’t seen him for a couple of years, I wouldn’t know.” “Are you positive of that statement?” he asked.
I responded. “Well, no, I mean I think I saw him a couple of months ago, or weeks ago�he came up briefly from Key West to visit his mother. I
don’t know when it was exactly, we didn’t hang out.”
“Frankly sir, I wish you would learn how to lie better.” He said sternly.
“No, I am serious.” I was then cut off,
“Do you also know a certain Julie Wilson who resides in Virginia Beach
“Ah well yeah, I do.”
“Do you have any reason to believe that Sean has a reason to harm Miss Wilson because she may have stolen something from him?” Once again, said
with a deadpan seriousness.
“I really have no clue, I haven’t seen her in a while, listen, what is this all about? Has someone been hurt? They all did drugs if that is the
point you’re getting at. I really don’t think any of them are like that.” I was beginning to get scared.
“Well, you seem concerned, so I will let you know why we have contacted you. On May 5th of this year a phone call was placed to Virginia Beach,
Virginia from your household that was intended for Miss Wilson. But the caller didn’t leave the message at Miss Wilson’s, the caller left the
message at a high ranking Admiral’s household and they turned the tape over to us. We investigated the tape as part of procedure and realized that
we needed to take this seriously.”
I began to get freaked out, “Is Julie alright?”
“Well, we were hoping you could tell us that since the phone call came from your residence, are you sure Mr. O’leary hasn’t paid you a visit?”
I quickly responded, “I am super -positive.”