Money for nothin', narcotics for free. While dopeheads are content to rob mere convenience stores, drug dealers hit licks at your friendly neighborhood pharmacy. What does it take to steal tens of thousands of dollars in powerful narcotics and get away clean? Astoundingly little. An overnight robbery in November revealed laughable security failures at an average supermarket pharmacy in upscale North Dallas.
My night manager was talking to me as I threw stock on the dog food aisle when the booming pharmacy alarm sounded. Being the responsible nocturnal steward he was, my boss ran toward the imperiled dope department. Having been robbed as a nightshift cashier months ago, I was thoroughly disinterested in the action. I kept working steadily as I tried to shake the ludicrous fear that yet another masked gunman would come after me.
After a while, my boss approached me with a grin on his face. "I hope you brought your book," he cackled. During my lunch breaks, I had been reading an investigative book about domestic surveillance after Sept. 11. Upon being notified of the break-in, loss prevention gave one lucky member of the night crew an interesting assignment. The boss laughed as he handed down orders to have me posted by the pharmacy should another break-in occur before loss prevention arrived. My tension melted as I chuckled at this asinine assignment.
After 20 minutes of droning, the alarm was shut off. The unlucky night stocker who would get back to the grindstone was eagerly talking to police as I passed by en route to the pharmacy. What a rush this little ransacking must have been for him.
There I was, sitting on my narrow ass, reading my book, and eating a free jelly doughnut. I went ahead and checked my blood pressure just for laughs. Thrilled with my luck, I looked through the pharmacy pick-up window and whipped out my handy notebook.
Mangled mini-blinds from the drive-thru window had been cast onto the floor. The flimsy drive-thru window was the point of entry, pried open in an instant with an ordinary crowbar. Even McDonald's drive-thru windows guarding petty cash have lock bars, but not here where a wealth of popular dope is at stake. A cabinet that looked like the one holding swabs and examination gloves at your doctor's office was opened and empty. There were absolutely no pry marks on this cabinet, which contained all of the pharmacy's high-dollar dope. If the cabinet ever had a lock, it was clearly not being used. Guess where the brain trust put all this: right next to the drive-thru window.
Article comments
1 - Shawn
Perhaps if we eliminated the concept of having to have a drug 'prescribed' instead of having all drugs made OTC ASAP, there would be no incentive to steal these drugs: they would either NOT exist any more OR would be so much cheaper since competition would force the prices down (without the FDA/DEA/BATF, etc. making sure that drugs would be far more expensive than they need be, the marketplace would set something approaching an equilibrium price). The drug banners/prescribers, etc. never took Economics 101 in college, or else they'd know better....
2 - Ray Ellis
Good to see you back in action, Joe. Once again, you've touched upon one of those rarely reported incidents that the local newshounds ignore, and the constabulary write off.
If all you say is true, I'd say the powers that be should be looking at the possible involvement of certain employees.
Shawn, Economics 101 notwithstanding, your remedy doesn't hold water. There's always an incentive to steal-- cigarettes are legal, but a thriving blackmarket still exists.
3 - Jared Wright
There's a black market for cigarettes? Seriously, that's not sarcastic, I must be living under a rock and missed it.
Nice article, Joe. Good readin'.