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.
1st!!
Dude, you would’ve been expelled after you exploded the bed in the dorm room or something.
wow, 3???
4th!
42 and stuck in the middle of that crossroads of which you speak. If anyone passing by wouldn’t mind shoving me in some sort of direction, I’d really appreciate it.
Why do I keep seeing this image in my mine of Effrem Zimbalist, Jr. with Jiffy Pop hair?
Every fucking day that I awake its a goddamn crossroads. Every Fucking Day.
I think you really ARE Agent Kay, hiding in plain sight, asking us questions about ourselves everyday.
Apparently I did something to impress someone, somewhere on the standardized tests that the military makes all high schoolers take (asvab? asvad?), and some poor recruiter from the Navy would call me on a near-weekly basis trying to get me to sign on. He promised me the world, College degree, guaranteed officers school, post-grad college degree, etc, etc.
The then 17 year old me, in full-on Punk mode with humongous spiked hair, a near-vampiric schedule, severe disdain for ANY type of authority.
Yeah, I pretty much told him thanks, but no thanks, about 20 times, but he was persistent. I think he finally got the message after I started making up bizarre pagan ceremonies and describing my “religion” to him. I think he wasn’t ready to promise me that the navy would understand my spiritual need to sacrifice a goat each month……..
Wow! Top ten.
I went down to the crossroads, fell down on my knees.
I went down to the crossroads, fell down on my knees.
Asked the lord above for mercy, save me if you please.
I went down to the crossroads, tried to flag a ride.
I went down to the crossroads, tried to flag a ride.
Nobody seemed to know me, everybody passed me by. – Robert Johnson
You? In the FBI?? That’s a sitcom just waiting to happen! I’m pretty sure the FBI doesn’t take kindly to shenanigans and you, my friend, are FULL ON
I answered an ad like that when I was a young fellow also. It turned out to be the U.S. Navy.
When I was 12 I was recruited into the United Network Command for Law and Enforcement I still have my Badge!
You? In the FBI?? That’s a sitcom just waiting to happen! I’m pretty sure the FBI doesn’t take kindly to shenanigans and you, my friend, are a walking shenanigan. Yeah, I’d have a paid a dollar to see that…
As for my own personal crossroads.. well, it took me years to leave my ex-husband even though he was a full-on ass monkey and another 3 years to get fully divorced. We both have issues related to CHANGE. (Sound familiar, Jeff?) Other than that, I’m mostly a coaster. I just go with the flow..
I wonder how long the FBI kept their “Jeff Kay File” open. Certainly they started a file, to keep track of their interviews with you and the poeople they tracked down to talk about you. So after you turned ’em down, did they just close their file and that was that? Or did they continue to follow you over the years, either because they hoped you’d eventually change your mind, or because they were pissed that you rejected the offer and they decided to look for ways to screw you. And if they did keep it open, are they still following you today? Is there a guy at the Hoover building assigned to read the WVSR each day, and to check your tax returns each year? Kinda makes ya wonder, doesn’t it….
Whoa, that was weird.. it posted the first part twice.. funky..
I’ve made giant leaps for most of my life. I started working in a factory in Waco TX when I was about 19. Did that for a couple of years and then bolted to Houston for no apparent reason and got a job at a restaurant. Did that for a spell and then moved to Birmingham, AL to start a masonry company with my cousin. That went well until it didn’t. Then I got into real estate and moved to Huntsville, AL. That’s where I’m currently at. I guess my jumping around days are over. I’m married with children now.
But it’s an interesting thing to consider. What if I’d stayed here or there? Seems like everyone I know now (even my wife) I met by accident. If I hadn’t come up here I wouldn’t have met her, wouldn’t have these kids, etc. Then again I might be married to sevaral women in Utah if I’d decided to turn right instead of left somewhere along the way.
I’m happy where I am. This “what if” thing is too deep for me.
Destiny is a funny thing. Once I thought I was destined to become Emperor of Greenland, sole monarch over its 52,000 inhabitants. Then I thought I was destined to build a Polynesian longship in my garage. I was wrong then, but I’ve got it now. I’m the destined protector of this place. I’m the Surf Report’s superhero.
You boys better not be making fun of John Edgar Hoover! Goddammit! Outrage!
I would have become a supermodel, but my ass got too big.
We are watching Mr. Kay.
T. Farty McAppleass – And, isn’t sanity really just a one-trick pony anyway? I mean all you get is one trick, rational thinking, but when you’re good and crazy, oooh, oooh, oooh, the sky is the limit.
I think all the time that I wish I had joined the military fresh out of high school. i would be ready to retire now instead of sitting at my desk providing tech service to people who have problems with their RV. UGH!!! Its not like the military was beating down my door or anything but I wish I had gone that route.
Jeff that is a fascinating story. Toney is right your parents should not have discouraged that but then you woudl not entertain me while at said dead end job had you gone that route so thanks Mr. and Mrs. Kay!!!
Good topic. Funny thing is I am always at a crossroads. Never happy with change but always want SOMETHING to change. Doesn’t it seem like when one aspect of your life is great something else is fucked up? I am delirious about my relationship with my boyfriend and home life but my give-a-shit factor on the job o’meter is in the red zone.
It took me 40 years to figure out what the hell I want to do when I grow up…now I’ve figured it out but don’t know where to start.
Man, I went through one of those Q&A sessions one time. I decided to be honest and tell them about all my youthful experimentation and what was supposed to me a 45-minute interview went on for a grueling four hours. Needless to say, I’m not in the FBI or anything today.
I do work with a group of guys who have FBI and secret service backgrounds, though. They all seem to have really great senses of humour. Maybe it’s the relative freedom they feel now that they’re consulting as civilians, but I can almost imagine you among their ranks, Jeff.
Oddly enough, bourbon seems to be a common theme in a lot of my b.s. sessions with them.
After a ten year stint they would have realized their selection methods were drastically flawed and can you. You would have ended up as a creative consulant and assistant to the script writer on a Mel Brooks film. After years of being tailed, as insiders always are, you apply to enter the “Nitwits Protection Program”, and begin selling T-shirts for a living.
My Dad used to say..”The guy didn’t know whether to shit or go blind”…and I guess that’s some sort of crossroads philosophy. Dunno?
I am right there with ya Bikerchic. Love my life at home but the job is pretty much not what I want to do forever. Approaching 40 and now know what I think i want to do but no idea how to get started.
Shiny Rod,
I’m good and crazy. The sky isn’t my limit. I’m way out there where the universe is expanding. Way out there on the edge, the edge of absolute nothingness. That’s what it is out there you know? Where the universe is expanding? The area that it’s expanding into is absolute nothingness.
Anyway, I’m gonna go put a twix in my ass and meditate for a bit.
Sexual Chocolate! Sexual Chocolate!
Jeff as a Feeb? Glad you didnt take it. As for myself I graduated High School in 1970, the Vietnam war was a full-tilt boogie and I had an Army recruiter calling me every other day. I finally got tired of his shit and went to take their test. There was me and about a dozen older guys that had already been in and out of the service already and were wanting back in. I recently found a picture of myself at that age and I looked remarkably like Kenny G. Not real proud of that.
Anyway…after the test the recruiter was to take us all for lunch at a local diner while the tests were scored…they went one way and I went home.
Turns out I scored twice as high as anyone there and the Army wanted to make me an MP. Uh…no thank you.
Oh…what could have been.
Jeff, you would have been fine until you had an assignment in Moscow that required you to use a public toilet. Poof, end of FBI career!
Instead of the West Virginia Surf Report we’d be reading the West Washington FBI Secrets Exposed Report?
I am also currently at a crossroads. I also love my home life. One more semester and Wally will be done with school. Do I go back and get my vet tech certification? All I know is if I continue to sit at this desk someone is going to have to die. And it certainly won’t be me.
A couple of FBI guys came to my house years ago for a background check on a neighbor. We started talking after the basic questions were out of the way and with my military background and flight experience they thought I would make a good DEA agent. That’s when we heard my wife drop a plate in the kitchen. It made a real nice crashing noise.
I was actually accepted into the Pharmacy program in college…I think that dropping out of that was actually a smart move, as I’d hate to see myself put in charge of a stockpile of pharmaceuticals. I’d probably be dead or in jail by now.
On the living room stereo: Iggy and the Stooges: Heavy Liquid/New Orleans
Swami-You bring up a very interesting question. hhmm?
I had quite a few military recruiters call me back before I finished high school. I had no idea what I wanted to do but joining the military didn’t seem like much fun. That was 1985 or so and not a lot seemed to be going on, fast forward a few years and we’re bombing the hell out of Bagdad and suddenly I felt like I might be missing something. But I apparrently lack the the testicular fortitude to put my money where my mouth is. I am sure I would have gotten in trouble being around machine guns however.
As for our lead reporter and a career in the FBI I kinda see it ending something like this.
Dear Mr. and Mrs. Kay,
We regret to inform that your son Jeffrey Kay, Agent-in-Training was killed in action this morning on the pistol range attempting to holster his service revolver.
He was rushed to Walter Reed hospital where he was pronounced dead.
While he was only with us less than a week I saw real potential in your son and he will be missed.
With my deepest sympathy,
William H. Webster
Director FBI
T. Farty sez: “The area that it’s expanding into is absolute nothingness.”
And by “nothingness” he doesn’t mean a vacuum. A vacuum is “something” — it’s part of space and time, but is simply devoid of matter. The nothingness beyond the universe, on the other hand, is absent of space or time. It does not abide by the rules of the known universe. Our known laws of physics do not apply. It is beyond human reason.
T. Farty understands how impossible it is for us understand. T. Farty is, in fact, way out there on the edge.
I’m getting wanderlust a lot lately. I’ve got enough frequent flyer miles to go to Europe but not enough $$ for hotel, etc. and I really should pay off some bills first, ya know.
So, I’ll keep after this suck-ass data entry job that bores me to tears, until something better comes along that pays better, and try to squirrel away some money. In the meantime, I am grateful for this job, I promise.
I don’t feel like I’m Meant to Be Here, but whaddyagonnado?
Good Afternoon Surf Reporters…
2 major cross roads i can think of. First was way back when in high school and I was undecided what to do with my life. Parents actually offered to send me to a PGA management school in Florida. It was a 2 year course where I would have entered an apprenticeship, practiced and played golf.
From there I could have gone in many directions, not necessarily be a Tour pro, but a club / teaching pro or work within in the PGA itself.
Second was when I had been married for a few years and my Dad was getting ready to retire. He worked as an insurance agent and had a pretty nice little book of business after almost 30 years. I should have gotten my insurance license then and taken over his book.
I kick myself in the ass daily for not doing that.
mmmm… FBI agents.
I’m at that crossroads now. I just quit the job I had in the Entertainment industry. Not to brag but I was making 150 G’s a year and I couldn’t stomach doing it anymore. Now I have no job to go to, but plenty of irons on the fire. I’m 40 something and don’t know what i want to do when I grow up. Money isn’t everything. And before you say “It’s easy to say that when you have it” well,……. I don’t. An ex wife and a couple of ungrateful kids keep me pretty much in the poor house…it doesn’t matter how much I make, it aint enough.
Well said Ron, I am of the same thinking. You have 2 (or more) accounts in your life – Your life account and your bank account – shame that so many mess them up… I’m an armchair quarterback though on that account, doing what people think I should do instead of what I want. Not that I know what that is – went to Australia to work on my surfing career – now I’m an Accountant again….
Forgot to mention the term I use for myself – Corporate Prositute.
missed a ‘t’.
I’ve been through a few crossroads, two of which I’ll mention.
In the late 90’s, I contemplated quitting my job and going full time to culinary school. I agonized over it for months, then chickened out. I still have the desire to be a pastry chef, but for now I’ll just do it for a hobby. A few of the surf reporters got to sample my work last month.
My latest crossroad I just crossed. I got my bachelor’s degree in supply chain management last month. I had to decide whether to leave my job as an accountant and strike out to find a supply chain job, or stay where I’m at. I decided to stay and let my current place of employment pay for my master’s degree. So, for now I’m still an accountant who will be starting grad school in the fall.
Based on your Keen extra-ordinary sense of observation (based on reading your surf report for the last few years) you would of made a very good FBI agent.
As for my personal cross-roads: at age 17 I was sent off to college with little resources and direction, 2100 miles from home. Best move in my life; I grew up very fast.
shinyrod, dude… i’m the one that’s neigh invunerable. bullets don’t bounce off of me, but they don’t do more than sting.
i was at a crossroad until mid november when i got shitcanned at my job. i gueeessss i took matters into my own hands when i threw the salad at the truck driver….
they brought that up at my exit interview.
now i’m back in school for computer engineering. woots.
47th!!!
Jeff, you could have prevented 9/11 if you would have taken the opportunity to serve our country.
Why do you hate America so much?
When I was 17, I needed to put away some cash for university, so I took the CDN federal civil service exam, did pretty well, and got a union position in my hometown, the capital city, lucky for me.
The RCMP has still got my prints on file, with a pic from ’77, somewhere.
Did that for 6 months or so, got my pension plan rolling, and promptly quit to go to school.
My co-workers thought that I was nuts, I already had it made, as far as they were concerned. I coulda been retired at my chalet in the Laurentians by now I guess, if I didn’t wind up with a rifle in a clocktower somewhere first.
I quit university on my 18’th birthday a couple of months after that, and have never regretted either choice.
I think we’re more or less always at a point where choices matter, persisting with the status quo is a choice we make every day, for whatever reasons.
Stability is at best temporary, change is gonna happen.
This isn’t the dress rehearsal folks, this is the show, in my mind anyhow.
And if I’m wrong, I can live with it, after I’m dead.
RE: Further Evidence
I am glad to see that I am not the only one who shops at Norm Thompson.