On December 12, 2017, no more than five months after Coco Loko was unveiled online, the FDA intervened and issued a warning letter to the product’s marketers and distributors. Coco Loko they said, was an “unapproved drug” that violated sections of the Federal Food, Drug, and Cosmetic Act.
In addition to warning that it could “encourage drug abuse in individuals, including minors,” the organization worried it could cause spasms of the vocal cords, muscle tightening in the lungs, and acute asthma. They gave Legal Lean and Anderson 15 days to respond and correct the issue. Within a day, all traces of Coco Lean had been wiped clean from the internet.
Eight months after its disappearance, I decided to go on a crusade to find out exactly what happened from Legal Lean’s standpoint. It was not an easy task. Coco Loko’s website no longer exists and the product is now nowhere to be found online except when referenced in news articles.
When I tried the link that used to deliver me to Coco Loko’s page on Amazon, I was greeted with a picture of a golden retriever and the message “SORRY we couldn’t find that page.” When contacted in the hopes of finding out why Coco Loko mysteriously disappeared from their website, an Amazon employee named Christine had no answers for me, and recommended I check out “a similar item” — an organic cacao powder used for baking — that wasn’t similar at all.
I tried to reach out to Legal Lean via an email I found on their website, but the message bounced back. So I got more creative. Text at the bottom of Legal Lean’s website said it had been “designed and managed” by Black Collar & Company, LLC, so I did some digging. The first search result that came up was for an apparel company called Black Collar in Minneapolis. I knew that wasn’t right, so I narrowed my search by adding “Florida” in the hopes that Legal Lean’s web developers were based in the same state as them.
I was right. A company with that name existed in Orlando, and there was even a phone number conveniently listed for me to contact. Instead of calling, I texted the number — again, taking a chance — introducing myself as a journalist trying to get in touch with Coco Loko’s founder, Anderson.
An hour-and-a-half later they texted me back without a message, just a phone number with a 408 area code. I called it and a woman answered. She suggested I try sending a message to a specific gmail address. Thirty-minutes after sending it, I received a response containing yet another phone number and a simple, one-line note: “Call Nick directly.”
When I reached Anderson on the phone the next day, I learned that I was incredibly lucky to be able to do so.
“After the FDA stuff, for a couple of months, I really didn’t want to talk to anybody,” Anderson told me. “I just didn’t really trust what was going to be discussed or printed by a journalist, so I kind of just avoided anyone who reached out to me.”
Time has helped change that.
The 30-year-old Orlando native described himself as “now, just kind of, like, over it” and was ready and willing to break his silence with an interview for OK Whatever. He had a 20-minute drive ahead of him, he said, and he was ready to talk.
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