When I was nineteen or twenty years old I answered an ad in the newspaper, and was summoned to a job interview in Charleston. The ad was vague, but mentioned the federal government, fantastic benefits, and job security.
So I went up there, believing I was going to be in the running for a cushy can’t-be-fired file clerk gig. And I was psyched. Man, that would be a dream come true!
The interview was to take place in an unfamiliar office building, and I had trouble finding a parking spot and the specific room number. I arrived about five minutes late for my appointment, and apologized profusely. And the dude was about as humorless as a severed spine. Sheesh.
We went into a small room, and I quickly learned that this had nothing to do with a file clerk position. No, it was something COMPLETELY different. I was still a little unsure about what was going on, but he seemed to be talking about… the FBI agent training program. Gulp.
Beads of sweat were rolling down the middle of my back, but I answered the guy’s questions, and he sent me on my way. Holy shit, I thought, while driving home. Holy fucking shit.
And a few days later, they called back. I returned, on auto-pilot, and answered more questions. This time they also fingerprinted me, gave me an IQ exam, and asked if I’d have any problem undergoing a polygraph test. I told them it was cool, but it never actually happened.
I had no overwhelming passion for any of this, but no major objections, either. I was adrift at that point, with no direction whatsoever. So, I figured I’d just ride the deal out, and see what happened. It was certainly interesting, if nothing else.
Then reports started trickling in from people I knew, about men showing up at their doors and asking questions about me. Wha’?! They talked to a couple of my high school teachers, random neighbors, and even my friend Tim, who was in the Army and stationed somewhere in Colorado.
Heh. Tim said he was ordered to an office out there, and someone with substantial authority started asking questions about me. And this happened on the other side of the continent, while Tim was serving in the military! He thought, “Oh my God… what’s that idiot done now??”
I was working at a shitty grocery store then, collecting carts in the parking lot, stealing quarters from the Coke machines, etc. And I was there one afternoon when I was paged, over the loudspeaker: “Jeff, you have a call on line one!”
I thought it was going to be my girlfriend, and answered, “Yeeeellow?!” But, of course, it wasn’t my girlfriend. It wasn’t her, at all. It was the Federal Bureau of Investigation, ordering me to report to the J. Edgar Hoover Building in thirty days.
The floor of my ass almost fell out.
They were going to put me up in a dormitory in Washington D.C., pay me twelve thousand dollars per year, put me through some sort of training program, and also pay for my college education. I would be required, I was told, to have a law degree.
A law degree? The J. Edgar Hoover Building?! Man, I’d just wanted to disappear into some sort of office setting, and make enough scratch to buy Mickey’s Big Mouths on the weekends. This shit was getting waaaay out of hand.
But I decided to go. I was nervous as hell, but viewed it as a rare opportunity.
And then I told my parents about it, and they both went white. I think they knew me better than I did, and realized this might not be the greatest idea in the world. I was about twenty, chronologically, but roughly twelve, emotionally. It took me a long time to grow up, and I was nowhere near in 1983.
So, my folks launched a campaign that finally convinced me to turn down the offer. I called the, um, FBI, and told them I wouldn’t be reporting after all. And they weren’t very happy about it, not in the least.
I tell Toney this story now, and she gets irritated with my parents. I would’ve grown-up if I was required to do so, she says, and it probably would’ve led to a fantastic, exciting life. Who knows?
It was certainly an opportunity that would’ve changed everything. If I’d actually gone, everything that’s happened to me to this point, probably wouldn’t have. All my experiences would likely be different, almost completely.
I don’t regret anything, that’s not really my style, but I sometimes wonder what would’ve happened if I’d entered that parallel universe, or whatever. Where would I be now? Who would I know? What would I be doing? Or would I even still be alive?
Have you ever been faced with a potentially life-altering decision like that? Have you ever been to the proverbial crossroads? How did it work out for ya? Tell us about it in the comments, won’t you?
And I’ll see you guys again tomorrow.
This is Agent Kay, signing off.
Two major crossroads. First was five years ago when I decided to adopt my newborn grandson, then four years ago when I decided the State of WV didn’t pay me enough to raise said grandson. Sooooo, hit the button on the computer for a job with the Navy and after saying quite a few times, “God, if they just . . . then I’m going to take it,” they met all my requirements, packed up my stuff, moved into an apartment half the size of the house I had, left all my family (except the baby, obviously) and now, I’m happily situated in Rhode Island and look out on the water every day and feel like I’m the most blessed person in the world.
wvanri — congratulations. Enjoy the view.
HA! Jeff Kay spotting towell headed terrorists in an airport in Mubai. HAHAHAHAHAHAH, that pussy has about has much chance of being an FBI agent as the Republicans have to getting Ted Kennedy’s Senate Seat in Washington.HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA oh shit–that’s hysterical. uh…ha, uh..uhhhh,
That is all.
On a more serious note. After college I was having NO luck finding a job. I was washing cars at a car dealership and serving as a substiute school teacher (they actualy pay you 25-dollars more a day if you have a degree HEY!) So I spok with the Marine Corps recruiter. He assured me they had a PERFECT POST GRADUATE PROGRAM TAILOR MAID FOR A MAN OF MY SKILL SET IN A SUNNY SOUTH CAROLINA VACATION PARADISE.
I told him to let me sleep on it for the weekend and I’d get back to him on Monday. I was all set to sign the dotted line when I got a call on Sunday from my current employer. That was in 1990.
Buck Out
uh, that should read “tailor MADE” not “maid” sorry wordnerd. I can’t type.
Entering active duty Air Force in 1987 was the best thing I ever did for myself. Everyone who knew me was in shock, because at the time I was managing a record store on Ohio State campus, going to see bands almost every night (on the guest list), collecting records and smoking a big, fat ounce a week. In short, just having as much fun as humanly possible – it was just one big party. My miltary experience helped set me on a path to what I’ve been doing for a living ever since then. Aside from that, I was proud to serve and excelled in almost everything I approached. The miltary sort of forced me to grow up, but I probably discovered more about myself during those four years than any other time of my life (and my life would certainly be much different had I not made the choice). My experience resulted in a failed marriage, but that also lead me to meeting my 2nd wife and having my kids, which are the best things that have ever happened to me. I’ve really been blessed.
About the security checks – I had a similar experience – when I was being reviewed for my Top Secret security clearance OSI agents were hunting down some friends and old hoodrats and former associates to find out a little more about me. After my clearance was delayed for almost 3 months I asked a friend (an Air Force Office of Special Investigations officer who owed me a favor) to see if he could find out where the glitch was. I was starting to get worried. He comes back to me a week later and says one name to me. It was then I immediately realized where the hitch was – an old friend of mine during my Commie-lite days was discovered, which lead to an inquiry about why I was so fucking retarded that I formerly hung out with RCPUSA members and read The Daily Worker and fancied myself as some kind of armchair revolutionary. It was touch and go for a while, but my clearance finally came through…
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it was grassy and wanted wear,
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I marked the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I,
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Robert Frost
.
.
I’m just sayin’.
jtb
Life’s what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.
~ John Lennon
two crossroad situations here…first, when i was just a young dumb ass and newly into the USAF. at the time they were offering a physicians assistance program and tested most of us that were entering any type of medical assignment. needless to say this doofus was accepted into the program. at the time all the classes were full so i had to wait until the next round of classes started. again, being young and foolish i tended to enjoy too much booze for Uncle Sams liking and managed to get myself removed from the program before i even started.
secondly was just about a year ago at this time. i was contemplating going to work for the Dept. of the US Army as a civilian working at a military hospital in Germany. well i decided against it and the rest is history. i met my new wife and it changed my whole world….glad i decided to stay in the US
COME my tan-faced children,
Follow well in order, get your weapons ready,
Have you your pistols? have you your sharp-edged axes?
Pioneers! O pioneers!
For we cannot tarry here,
We must march my darlings, we must bear the brunt of danger,
We the youthful sinewy races, all the rest on us depend,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
O you youths, Western youths,
So impatient, full of action, full of manly pride and friendship,
Plain I see you Western youths, see you tramping with the foremost,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
Have the elder races halted?
Do they droop and end their lesson, wearied over there beyond the
seas?
We take up the task eternal, and the burden and the lesson,
Pioneers! O pioneers!
I have always been a pioneer…hasn’t always worked out the best for me but…It has been interesting!!
In the real world I’m lucky enough to be in the air charter business (Sounds good but really is Hours & hours sitting around reading WSVR & playing Conquer club on the computer! waiting for the phone to ring!) Just flew in& out of Port au Prince after the aftershock hit. I promise you, no matter what life has handed you so far, each and every one of us has got it made!!!
(Pagan promises NEVER to be preachy on this site again!)
You have to be a “Prick” to be in the FBI. Jeff is predictably to unpredictable.
Wow, I can’t believe I asked the same question about two months ago, but didn’t include the word “crossroads”. Only got about ten responses.
If I hadn’t got into a car wreck in South Charleston, I would have never come to Florida (to change my world). Wouldn’t have met first wife. If I hadn’t have been dissatisfied with first wife, wouldn’t have met second wife. If second wife hadn’t have gotten into a car accident, she would have never gotten a job a year later at the place I met her. Wouldn’t have stayed here. Wouldn’t have had second family. Would never had succeeded in WV. It all works out for the best for me.
On IPOD right now- “Pearl Necklace”- ZZ Top
(I added the entire ZZ Top catalogue to my IPOD over the weekend. Saw a concert on VH1 on Friday and had forgotten how entertaining these redneck were in concert.) Now ZZ comes up every ten songs or so.
I’ve met a lot of crossroads and have unfortunately made a wrong turn at most of them. Right now I’m actually at a crossroad of sorts given that I’m staring down the barrel of a possible diagnosis of MS (as has been mentioned here recently). But as Pagan has reminded me, hey, at least I haven’t been trapped under a building for seven days and have to have my arm cut off with a circular saw just so they can get me out. Things can always be worse. May God give us all strength at each of our respective crossroads.
As far as Jeff in the FBI, maybe they would have given him his own division, ala the X-Files. Perhaps “The Snark Unit” or something. Or maybe they would have assigned Jeff to keep tabs on suspicious musician types. Oh, he would have loved that one!
Oh yeah, I forgot to say “Fuck you!!!” to Tiger today.
Fuck you Tiger. You had it all.
“The FBI has 56 field offices centrally located in major metropolitan areas across the U.S. and Puerto Rico. We also maintain about 400 resident agencies in smaller cities and towns across the nation. Each field office is overseen by a Special Agent in Charge, except our office in West Virginia which is operated by a special agent in a Yurt”
I wish I hadn’t read today’s Further Evidence. Very disturbing.
AWG: When I’m channel surfing on my Sirius XM radio, Z.Z.Top is one of the few bands I always stop on, no matter what the song is. My motto is: “You can’t go wrong / With a Z.Z. Top song.” I don’t think they’ve released any stinkers in nearly 40 years of rockin’.
Too bad that guy didn’t try that with a ferret.
Swami- this concert I saw was just from last year, and they are exactly the same, entertainmentvaluewise, as they were in the early seventies. Just a bigger song catalog. I feel they don’t get the credit they deserve, sometimes.
On IPOD right now- “Bonzo’s Montreaux”- Led Zep
I am so jealous I can’t stand it.
I ALWAYS wanted to be a FBI agent.
Years ago, when I was a little girl, my Dad was a G-Man. I think that was the beginning of the FBI.
He had a gun. W could sometimes see it from a window.(unloaded) My brother and I would charge a penny for other little kids to look at it.
Great story about the road not taken.
This article was fun, but the comments are even better. I’ve got nothing to add. except yes. Life takes unexpected turns. Even with intention, law of attraction, goals, self development and hard work. We can still find ourselves in a totally different world than we expected. And that’s a good thing
Mickey’s Wide Mouths… Ha ha ha.
Chalked up to missed opportunities. You would be retired by now.
Hey Jeff,
Great story! I’m picturing you as an FBI and man I think you’d be able to do some really cool things, not to mention saving the world!
Great post mate!
“So I went up there, believing I was going to be in the running for a cushy can’t-be-fired file clerk gig.”
Hahaha, the gov’t is like the mafia: once you’re in, you’re in for life!