For a time I worked at a teaching mushroom farm. Normally we ran a production edible and medicinal farm. But a few times a year we would have groups of 20+ students from around the world come in for a week of camping and learning. It was so fun talking shop with international folks for a week showing them the ins and outs of the biz. There is nothing like teaching a truly engaged student.
The rule for the employee (that would be me), was absolutely no magic cultivation, none allowed on the farm, and only private discussion of the subject between me and my employer. No exceptions. . .NONE (Easy peasy). Because lets faced it, that's how we both found our love of fungi, and there was no use lying to each other about it. But lordy did we smoke some grass. . .All day. Timers with loud alerts are your best friend.
But in every single class there was always one student who just didn't fit in. So my employer and I had a game we played called, who be Johnny fed? Sometimes they really tried to fit in, and some times they sent the straightest dude they could conjure up. But it was always obvious.
Hint: it was never the dude or dudette with dreds and "molecule" tattoos. Nor was it the couple who showed up in the VW bus they clearly lived in.
Johnny would without fail, bring up the magic at all the worst times. Interrupting lectures to ask THE question, or pull one of us to the side to inquire about the specific methods. The canned answer was; "We don't do that here, but if that's your thing, most all of the methods we teach will work. But you should pay special attention to the compost/dung lovers we cover." End of discussion.
More than a few times on my bus ride to the farm, someone would try to make friends with me. Again super obvious, since I was taking a twice a day bus to very rural community, and it was always the same people on the bus. But my new friend was never a regular, and usually after a very short introduction, they would try to buy grass from me. I, from the outside appear to be a "normy," I blend in really well with the rural folk on the bus. Out of the 30 or so Topiates I have met IRL, they have all said I don't fit the stereotype they had in their minds of a Topiate (Insert evil grin here). So there was never a reason for them to single me out, as "The Guy." I was always polite, but very clearly I would blow them off, and be about my business. A few ignored my lack of interest and tried to follow me to the farm. At which point I would become somewhat less polite.
On several occasions the Sheriff would just happen by at quitting time, as we were departing. A bit odd since the county was HUGE, but mostly rural, and had a total of 2 deputies on shift at any given time. They were an honest to god unicorn at any other time or place in daily life. They would usually ask for ID, and have a few leading questions to ask us. It's weird, they never hassled the the guys at the hot rod shop, or the dude who ran a boat storage, or the good ol boys who ran a "welding shop," but never seemed to weld anything, or have any customers, or any welding machines for that matter.
The moral of the story is, Johnny has a hard on for mushroom farms (and websites, so don't be a dumb dumb. Got it?). Yet you very rarely hear of big operations getting busted. What they don't realize is, not only are their tactics juvenile at best, but they are dealing with a different kind of doper. At least that's what I would like to think.