In my early twenties there was about a five second period of time when I seriously thought I was going to join the FBI. I prepared for this the way I imagine most people do: by discontinuing any recreational drug use, watching the X-Files, and reading John Douglas books.
Now, in case you aren’t familiar, John Douglas had a hand in creating the FBI’s Behavioral Science Unit, which is, of course, where Mulder started out. So his books are not only gruesome, but informative. The take-away message that I received was basically 1) Don’t hitchhike. Ever. 2) A ballpoint pen is the best weapon (you can stab someone in the jugular! And you can take one on a plane!), 3) Always keep your gun hand (or ballpoint pen hand) free in case of attack, and finally, 4) Be observant.
I have the first three pretty much down pat. I get car sick unless I’m the one driving, I doodle and therefore am always with pen, and I already look for any excuse available to make other people carry things for me. It’s the “observant” thing that I kept getting hung up on. At first I tried to walk into every room taking note the number of people, the number of exits, the color of the walls, how many cars were parked outside, the time on the wall clock, the level of water in the cooler... you know, all the crap that can be considered useful. Except I’d always forget. I’d already be in a room and, suddenly it’s “shit! I didn’t count the number of people in this room! Should I walk out and come back in?”
It’s not that I would just forget, I really don’t think I’m cut out for anything observational. Just the other day I went to visit my brother at his lovely cottage home. After I plopped my jacket on the floor and took a seat, my end of the visit’s conversation went a bit like this:
“Hey Guys”
“Sure, I’ll have a cup if you’re making it”
“Whoa, that cat’s getting fat”
“Is it like a thyroid thing- no? He’s just fat? OK.”
“Oooh- is that pumpkin bread?”
This would be fine except for the fact that it wasn’t until about an hour later that I noticed that my brother had ripped up his carpet, gotten rid of two leather couches and an antique organ, and moved all of the outside furniture inside. I was sitting on porch furniture instead of a couch and I. Didn’t. Even. Notice.
Now, in case you aren’t familiar, John Douglas had a hand in creating the FBI’s Behavioral Science Unit, which is, of course, where Mulder started out. So his books are not only gruesome, but informative. The take-away message that I received was basically 1) Don’t hitchhike. Ever. 2) A ballpoint pen is the best weapon (you can stab someone in the jugular! And you can take one on a plane!), 3) Always keep your gun hand (or ballpoint pen hand) free in case of attack, and finally, 4) Be observant.
I have the first three pretty much down pat. I get car sick unless I’m the one driving, I doodle and therefore am always with pen, and I already look for any excuse available to make other people carry things for me. It’s the “observant” thing that I kept getting hung up on. At first I tried to walk into every room taking note the number of people, the number of exits, the color of the walls, how many cars were parked outside, the time on the wall clock, the level of water in the cooler... you know, all the crap that can be considered useful. Except I’d always forget. I’d already be in a room and, suddenly it’s “shit! I didn’t count the number of people in this room! Should I walk out and come back in?”
It’s not that I would just forget, I really don’t think I’m cut out for anything observational. Just the other day I went to visit my brother at his lovely cottage home. After I plopped my jacket on the floor and took a seat, my end of the visit’s conversation went a bit like this:
“Hey Guys”
“Sure, I’ll have a cup if you’re making it”
“Whoa, that cat’s getting fat”
“Is it like a thyroid thing- no? He’s just fat? OK.”
“Oooh- is that pumpkin bread?”
This would be fine except for the fact that it wasn’t until about an hour later that I noticed that my brother had ripped up his carpet, gotten rid of two leather couches and an antique organ, and moved all of the outside furniture inside. I was sitting on porch furniture instead of a couch and I. Didn’t. Even. Notice.
So I'm pretty sure I will never be an FBI agent (I think I'm too old at this point anyway), but I bet if I lost 15 pounds and did something better with my hair I could play one on TV.
