Most people at the bus stop do not talk to one another, unless of course they are traveling together. Likewise, complete strangers rarely introduce themselves to you for no good reason, especially at bus stops. As both of these commonalities were about to be violated, there was some cause for alarm. “Hi,” he said, extending his hand, “I'm Samish.” “George,” I say, nervously shaking his hand. I immediately regretted not driving to school today. “You know Officer Rinco?” he asked. That's an interesting conversation starter; at least for conversations not between police officers or criminals. “No, no I don't,” I reply, really wanting the bus to arrive more quickly. “Oh,” says Samish. “Well, did you see that squad car a while ago? That was him. I've got protection. I'm in the witness protection program.” Well good news there, I won't be getting killed tonight; I don't think someone who just got out of a squad car (which I did confirm, exists) after being put in the witness protection program would be out to murder people. Plus, he didn't have a chainsaw handy. Second thought in my head though was, “Hold up, if you're in the witness protection program, why did you just tell me your name?” But I was content with the fact that he seemed ready to explain himself, so I just nodded and allowed Samish to continue his story.

“So yeah, so many people want me dead right now, man.” As I figured this story really could only become more interesting from this point out, I politely asked him what he did. Samish told me that he was caught with marijuana earlier today, no big deal he says, but it is a misdemeanor on your police record, and as he was applying for MBA programs, he needed a clean slate. So instead, he says, he made a deal with Officer Rinco to provide him with the names of all the dealers and associates that he knew at UCSD. Apparently, Samish had quite an extensive network of connections, all of whom would undoubtedly be very unhappy with this revelation, hence the need for the police protection, which also explained why he was at a bus stop in the middle of nowhere talking to a complete stranger about what he did. Oh wait, no it doesn't.

A few months earlier, there had been a massive drug bust at the college a few miles away; one involving millions of dollars, large quantities of arrests, and swarms of reporters from media outlets across the country. It was pretty big. In fact, people who hadn't heard of the college often assumed that the drug bust happened at UCSD, the more famous San Diego university. We were quick to assure them that our college was far too boring for such a thing to happen, so they needn't worry. Assurances aside, however, Samish told me that the information that he provided would lead to a drug bust at UCSD that was even bigger. “It'll be all over CNN, just wait a few weeks,” he said repeatedly in a rather excited voice; it seemed particularly odd for someone in fear of getting killed in the immediate future.

“Do you know David Duchovny?” Samish asked, changing the subject away from his plea deal. “Sure,” I said, remembering his character on the X-Files. While I never actually watched Detective Moulder do his work, promotions for the show often interrupted my afternoon cartoons, and so my consistently corny Scooby-Doo and Friends would be mixed with a series of pictures of hilariously fake looking aliens and drawings in cornfields, dirt, or ashes. These pictures were inevitably accompanied by a dramatic soundtrack, voiced over by a man who had been chain-smoking cigarettes since childbirth, and always ended with a picture of Scully and Moulder looking dramatically off into the distance. But this was not the Duchovny that Samish was talking about, rather, it was the Duchovny on a different show, Californication. “Yeah man, know how he's always out partying with all those girls? That's me man.” Samish said proudly. I accepted this statement readily; not that I particularly cared about the number of women he slept with, but it may very well have been his greatest accomplishment in life so far, and who am I to deny him of that satisfaction? He said that he had been paying his own way through college, even though his parents were billionaires and could have easily supported him. Apparently this was their way of teaching him the skills needed to survive in business. Obviously, this tactic wasn't all that successful. I began to question the possibility of Samish getting into an MBA program with all his drugs, sex, and partying needing to take up a considerable amount of time, but then again weirder things have happened. Things, such as, hearing about a drug bust from a complete stranger who is supposed to be in the witness protection program.

To be continued.