More News

Eighteen-year-old Shannon Jones had just finished ordering chicken parmesan via room service from a downtown Silver Spring hotel room when she coolly tacked on a bottle of White Zinfandel wine to her order.

No problem, drink and dinner will be right up, the attendant told her.

Shannon hung up the phone and turned to Carlos Grajeda, an alcohol and tobacco enforcement specialist with the Montgomery County Department of Liquor Control, who was sitting on a chair across the room.

"They just called me Mrs. [Jones]," she said excitedly. Shannon, a senior high school student in Frederick County whose real name is being withheld to protect her job, is one of the few people under 21 who can order alcohol in the presence of law enforcement without fear of repercussion.

She works for the police as an undercover buyer, a job that requires courage, poise, integrity and even a small amount of acting skills to play the bad guy secretly trying to make the county a safer place.

‘You gotta have confidence'

Several times a month, Shannon and about nine other underage volunteers attempt to purchase alcohol at bars, restaurants, hotels and liquor stores — even the county-run ones — across the thousand-plus establishments in Montgomery County.

If an employee sells them the booze, a police officer and alcohol specialist (who are always close by) step in and issue the employee and the business criminal and civil citations, each of which can carry fines of up to $1,000, potential jail time and, for repeat offenders, removal of the establishment's alcohol license.

Undercover buyers walk a tricky line: The teen buyers must use their real ID and are prohibited from telling any lies, yet they can't let on to their undercover status.

"You can't be one of those really nervous people," said Shannon, who joined the undercover program after hearing about it from a friend. "You gotta have confidence."

About three years ago, the Department of Liquor Control teamed up with county police to run the joint alcohol compliance check program. (Previously, the two departments worked separately.) Since combining forces, the number of places cited for selling or serving alcohol to an undercover teen has gone down significantly, especially in areas with traditionally high citations, such as Wheaton and Bethesda, said Kathie Durbin, the chief of Liquor Control's division of Licensure, Regulation and Education. Durbin said these areas tend to generate more violations than other areas in the county simply because of the higher number of alcohol licenses.

But alcohol sellers appear to have tightened the cork on who they will serve.

Last year, only one out of 60 establishments tested in Bethesda and Wheaton sold alcohol to an undercover volunteer, compared with five in each town during past compliance checks.

This past Wednesday, about 40 percent of businesses sold to Shannon. That's a notably high rate, because it's above the national average of 30 percent, said Grajeda, who tries to visit 15 to 20 businesses a night with Shannon.

The two set such a blistering pace because no county business serving alcohol goes untested over a two-year period. Enforcement specialists aim for 600 undercover operations a year.

Shannon in action

The focus this past Wednesday evening was on Silver Spring hotels. On the 14th floor of one, Shannon, a one-year undercover veteran of purchasing cigarettes for the county, joked with Grajeda about her acting skills while they waited for her chicken dinner to arrive.

The conversation ended abruptly when they heard a knock on the door. Grajeda bolted for the bathroom as Shannon stalled for time.

"I can never get over this part," Grajeda said about his rush for cover.

But Grajeda said he hides to set up as real a situation as possible.

"People act differently if law enforcement is around," he said.

From his hideout in the dark bathroom, Grajeda could hear the hotel employee ask for Shannon's identification.

"It's hotel policy," the employee explained to Shannon.

A good sign, Grajeda thought.

But Grajeda's eyebrows furrowed when he heard the employee thank Shannon for her ID and then set the dinner and wine on a table in the room.

Seconds after the employee left the room, Grajeda burst through the bathroom and hotel doors and hurried down the hallway after the employee.

"Sir? Sir, could you come back please," Grajeda called out. "I'm an alcohol enforcement specialist. You were just part of a compliance check, and you just sold this minor alcohol."

A look from the surprised employee said everything: He had just been busted.

Officer Chester Phillips, an alcohol coordinator with the county police department's tactical operations division, had been on standby in the hotel parking lot for such a situation. With a call from Grajeda, he headed up to the hotel room to question the employee, who is not being named because the charges against him have not yet been filed. The hotel he works for is not being named for the same reason.

Grajeda took the opportunity to educate the employee on alcohol compliance laws. If a Maryland resident is under 21, he or she will have a vertical ID, whereas older residents receive horizontal IDs, he said.

The alcohol enforcer will have a chance to explain much more when the employee and his manager attend a three-hour workshop on alcohol compliance, typically a mandatory punishment.

But Grajeda said there's no thrill catching people serving minors.

If the establishment serves alcohol, its employees were trained by Liquor Control, and Grajeda hopes the training actually worked.

"Whatever happens, happens. It's not a gotcha program," he said.

But the program appears safe from budget cuts for now. It is paid for by a hodgepodge of various state and federal grants totaling only $6,000 a year, but Grajeda said the enforcement side of alcohol compliance is just too important and effective to drop.

"People get complacent," he said. "Every day they get into their routine, and we're out there making sure that doesn't happen."

Taking on a stealth role

for the greater good

After it was clear Officer Phillips had control of the situation in the Silver Spring hotel, Grajeda ushered Shannon out of the room. For her safety, he tries to limit her interaction with those who just sold her alcohol, he said.

In the car, Shannon usually writes down everything she can remember about the incident. If the case goes to trial, it's likely she'll have to testify in court.

The lively teen has about a year and a half left of undercover work (she gets paid $8 an hour for her effort, but after she turns 20-and-a-half years old, she would be deemed too close to legal age to continue posing as underage). After that, she'll attend High Point University in North Carolina, where she wants to study education or criminal justice.

Shannon said she enjoys her work, even though "it's not fun to get people busted." She doesn't have to look far to see the altruism in her role.

"I think, ‘What if my little brother was going out buying alcohol and he got into a car crash?' " she said.

And Durbin said people like Shannon are making Montgomery County a safer place to live and visit.

"It's a public issue. People will come to the county if they perceive it as safe," she said.