Today I found out that my friend is not going to jail. Yes, there's a backstory.
This friend ("Jeb"), like so many others in the rave scene, was into recreational pharmaceuticals. In college, we were both members of a student organization whose basic purpose was to throw raves. They had asked me back to play at an event a couple years after graduation, and everyone involved was hoping that Jeb would show up, as he had been one of the founding members of the organization before graduating the previous summer. However, he never showed.
The following day, he called me to explain his absence. He had gone to to an illegal party with some online acquaintances. Jeb reported that the event was actually a setup by the police, and that one by one, the attendees were led out in cuffs. Despite the fact that he was on something at the time, he was not arrested. He was tailed home however, and decided that the only way to escape the constant surveillance was to check himself into a psychiatric hospital. He was held for the weekend of our event, then released.
I took this account at face value, not knowing what was to follow.
About a month later, I went to New York City for my birthday. Some friends of mine were throwing a private party in Boston that same weekend, and I managed to get Jeb an invite since he had been complaining about a lack of things to do in the area. At 4AM, Jeb called me to report that everyone at the party was a cop! and that he was escaping before he got locked up, but not before warning everyone.
My friends throwing the event told me the next day that Jeb accused various trusted friends and family of the organizers of being undercover cops, and was no longer welcome at their events. Obviously, I was pissed. This threw into question Jeb's account of the mysterious outlaw.
Over the next few years, Jeb dropped a few friendships over what he deemed activity that marked them as police informants. I don't know the people involved very well, so I can't corroborate any of the stories I have been told. The only thing I was able to check up on was that one of the organizers of the original party was known to be an informant.
Several years passed, during which Jeb moved to Virginia for a new job. He was pulled over driving drunk and refused a breathalyzer test. A short time later, he fell asleep driving home late at night and crashed. This caused him to lose his company car. Without transportation, he was forced to discontinue his volunteer work tutoring kids in math. His Virginia license was suspended and he eventually was fired.
Between severance and unemployment, he was able to make do in his Virginia apartment, but before long he decided to move back to his father's house in New England. He was able to get a driver's license in his home state, and he found temporary employment for a while. However, he stopped attending his mandatory alcoholism treatment classes and began drinking again. He was eventually laid off. His drinking increased. He flew to North Carolina specifically to fuck an old friend's ex-girlfriend, ending that friendship. Shortly afterwards, he started calling me and describing the increased surveillance in his life. He believed that his father, my wife, and nearly all his acquaintances were working in concert with the police to smear him. During this time, he also repeatedly posted angry paranoid screeds to his Facebook account and to regional rave scene message boards. This started happening just after he attended an afterhours club and, once again, began accusing the entire crowd of being a cop. His relationship with his father deteriorated to the point where Jeb was asked to move out.
Still jobless, he was forced to move to Michigan to stay with his mother, saving all his money for several flights to Virginia to deal with his ongoing DUI court case. He is now living in a sober house near Ann Arbor after a stint in rehab. He doesn't drink anymore, which is a good thing. When he drinks, he believes that the birds and the trees work for the cops.