It's Been Decided.

I’ve decided what I want to do after college. You see, for a while now I’ve been struggling with what exactly I’ll do when I run out of places to go to school. School is what I do best, as far as I’ve seen, and so the thought that someday I will have all my schooling behind me kinda freaks me out.
Seriously, what will I do without the constant challenge of staying awake during a midmorning class? And how will I fare when money is more available? Will I have to forgo yoinking a few handfuls of ketchup and salt from fast food restaurants to avoid having to purchase my own? What if I have to give up sneaking empty water bottles into the cafeteria to obtain free milk? I tell ya, I used to just sit around sometimes for hours dreading the time when tuition payments are a thing of the past.

But I digress. Onto the point of this blog.

I’ve decided what I want to do after college. *Ahem* “Private I.” Oh yeah. I’m going to be a private investigator. Think about it. It’s perfect for me! Being a Private I will allow me to utilize all of my unique skills. I’ll give you the low-down and lets see if you disagree with me.

First, I get to pretty much act as weird and off-the-wall as I want, because that’s what people expect when contracting a Private I... a dysfunctional yet thorough investigator. I mean, I’d have to act strange or else people would start asking hard questions - why are you a Private I, and not part of a bigwig corporation? What do you do with your spare time, anyway? Why do all your business cards have googly eyes hot glued to them? A hilariously offbeat quirk like having to lock and then unlock all the doors I pass through or the tendency to end all my sentences with “snarf” would make sure those questions go unasked.

Second, I get to spend a lot of my time creeping around. And I’m a guy who loves a good creep, you know what I mean? Nothing welcomes in the New Year like lurking within a Christmas tree in the park with an iPod and a pair of binoculars. Oh, and what better way to spend a Friday night than in a ventilation shaft with night vision goggles? Point and case.

Third, I would get to say the most awesome one-liners, like “bingo, Domingo,” when my comical sidekick figures out an obvious truth, or “checkmate” when I finally gather enough incriminating evidence to book the bad guy. That’s not even taking into account all the witty remarks I get to utter to annoying clients and/or inquisitive bystanders.

Fourth, I would get to pack heat. And I mean whatever kind of heat I want... With a little bit of certification, I could choose between a Derringer in the sock and a fully automatic rifle underneath a trench coat. I could even adopt a certain favorite weapon. Taking into account reason number one, it would have to be something quirky yet effective... A Civil War era cavalry revolver, perhaps? Or a Glock with a lucky rabbit’s foot attached to it. Ooh! There’s always the infamous sawed-off shotgun with a comical nickname - “The Mare’s Leg,” perhaps? Or “Stumpy?”

And fifth, I could choose to work anywhere I want. Perhaps I could investigate some perplexing cases in Portland, Oregon? That would be excellent - stalking the cold, puddle-laden streets late at night, chasing some obscure lead. Breath seeping out from between my gritted teeth rhythmically, steadily, eyes sweeping the deserted shop fronts. No, no, no. Phoenix, Arizona. It doesn’t get cold there, so late night stakeouts would be much more pleasant. Plus, I could act more like a cowboy in Phoenix, which is always fun to do. I could chew on buckwheat and wear a sweet hat if I set up shop in Phoenix.

So basically, it’s the ideal career choice for me. I can be mysterious, dangerous, daring, and free all at the same time. I guess all that remains would be to change my name to something more adventurous...

Thanks for reading,

-Jack Spicer, Private I