Quote Originally Posted by jamstigator
When I was in the Army, I was in Grenada, and I had a money-making enterprise going. I'd buy a pound or two of pot ($120 a pound!), smuggle that back to the States in MRE (Meals-Ready-To-Eat) bags on my once-a-month R&R trip, then sell it at Fort Bragg for $80 an ounce. For the return trip I'd buy a dual-cassete player from Sears for $99, then sell that in Grenada to the locals for $350, then repeat the process. (Was funny that no one ever noticed that I never left Grenada with a boombox, but I always arrived with one!)

Anyway, I had a pound of pot in an MRE bag in one pants pocket, and a real MRE in the other. On the flight back we stopped in Puerto Rico to refuel the plane, and I went inside the terminal to kill some time. One of the customs inspectors asked me if he could have an MRE, since they were new at the time, and he'd never eaten one. Not thinking, I whipped one out and handed it to him.

Then I wondered, hmmm, did I hand him the real MRE or the pound of pot? I felt the one I still had, and I could tell it was the real one, which meant I'd just handed the customs inspector a pound of pot. Not good! My heart immediately started beating super fast, but outwardly I kept my cool. I pulled out the real one and thrust it into the custom inspector's face and told him that I preferred the flavor of that one, so could we switch, and he said sure, no problem, and handed me back the MRE that, had he opened it, would surely have landed me in Fort Leavenworth for some hard labor for a few years.

Man, that was close!
That's craaaazy! You got so lucky!

All these stories are great, I would post mine but I'm still traumatized from it.