There are many ways to be welcomed into the American criminal justice system, but few arrivals are quite as eventful as that of Reagan Cox, 30, whose booking into jail took a dramatic turn when a corrections deputy noticed something rather alarming in her “lower region” during a routine X-ray scan. Yes, we are talking about cocaine found in butt — a sentence that, once read, cannot be unread. Cox, to her considerable credit, did not simply go quietly. She had a story. A romantic one, at that.
A Tale of Love, Passion, and Inexplicable Narcotics
According to Cox, the cocaine discovered nestled within her person had arrived there not through any deliberate act of drug smuggling — heavens, no — but as a rather unfortunate byproduct of a recent sexual encounter. Presumably, this is what modern dating has come to. One minute you’re having a lovely evening, the next you’re standing in front of a corrections officer trying to explain why your X-ray looks like a drug trafficking exhibit. The explanation was, to put it charitably, creative. Law enforcement, however, remained unmoved.
It is worth noting that the American criminal justice system has heard some truly spectacular excuses over the years. “The dog ate my homework” is positively Shakespearean compared to some of the defences trotted out in booking rooms across the nation. However, even by those lofty standards, “it got there during sex” is doing some genuinely heroic heavy lifting as alibis go.
The X-Ray: Science Ruins Everything Again
Modern prison booking procedures involve walking detainees through X-ray scanners, a process designed precisely to prevent people smuggling contraband into correctional facilities. Consequently, it turns out that technology is rather good at spotting things that shouldn’t be where they are. Who knew? The X-ray, that marvellous invention usually associated with broken wrists and suspicious luggage at airports, has now added “detecting romantically-acquired narcotics” to its impressive CV.
The corrections deputy, displaying the kind of professional composure that deserves its own commendation, flagged the anomaly. Furthermore, one imagines the subsequent conversation was not entirely comfortable for anyone involved. Cox maintained her position with admirable consistency, which, if nothing else, demonstrates a certain commitment to one’s narrative under pressure.
Cocaine Found in Butt: America Delivers Again
This story is, of course, entirely on-brand for a nation that never ceases to astonish the rest of the world with its bottomless reserves of incident. From The Smoking Gun, which has been faithfully documenting America’s most spectacular own goals since 1997, to the rolling news channels that can barely keep up, the United States remains the undisputed world champion of “you could not make this up” journalism.
Meanwhile, criminologists, relationship counsellors, and anyone who has ever been on a first date are presumably reviewing their risk assessments accordingly. The case raises genuinely important questions about the nature of trust, communication, and perhaps the advisability of a thorough personal inventory before attending any social engagements. Drug policy experts will no doubt have views. The rest of us simply have questions.
What Have We Learned Here Today?
If there is a moral to this tale — and every tale, however absurd, deserves one — it is perhaps this: honesty, while not always comfortable, is considerably less complicated than the alternative. The discovery of cocaine found in butt during a jail X-ray is the sort of thing that tends to make creative explanations somewhat redundant. Science, as ever, is ruthlessly indifferent to one’s personal narrative.
Cox now joins the long and distinguished roster of individuals whose encounters with the American legal system have provided the rest of the world with something to read over their morning tea. We salute her commitment to her story. We cannot, however, recommend her method of accessorising. Read the original story at The Smoking Gun.
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