Captain’s Log - Supplemental

9:08 AM

Subject’s door opens. I hit the camera and get some film of him standing on the porch looking down the street…waiting for his package…you know, the one with the check in it (see previous post).


10:19 AM

Speed Freak comes out on his porch and tries to look menacing while he smokes a cigarette. Might be more impressive if he weighed more than 150 lbs and had some teeth.

11:23 AM

Subject comes back out talking on the phone and looking down the street. He’s calling the number on his Caller ID trying to find out where his check is. I film him while I chuckle to myself thinking how the number he’s calling is telling him the call was from a calling card. PI’s use prepaid calling cards to mask their numbers when doing pretexts.

You’re now that much smarter for knowing that.

12:42 PM

Subject gives up on waiting for his package and goes to the grocery store. I throw on my sunglasses with the concealed wireless camera in them and follow him in. I score some thrilling footage of him in the produce isle squeezing melons (no, dirty mind…real melons).

Once he gets to the checkout line I abandon my cart full of items I was throwing in at random and head back to my surveillance vehicle. How cool must I have looked wearing sunglasses in the grocery store?

Don’t answer that.

1:32 PM

Subject returns home. I obtain video of him lifting a 50+ pound bag of dog food in spite of his debilitating back injury that has forced him out of work. What an animal lover he must be to endure such excruciating pain for Poochie. Especially since he claimed to be unable to lift more than 10 pounds.

He better hope that check comes, because his insurance benefits are about to come to a raging halt.

2:00 PM

Well, kiddos. The eight hours my client paid for are up. Time to head for the Ponderosa. Don’t you wish your day was as exciting as mine?

Was the sarcasm there obvious enough? Because I can reword it, if not….


Captain's Log

4:45 AM

Alarm clock goes off. I try not to think about the fact that people in China are still up and being productive at this hour.

5:55 AM

Arrive at my Subject’s supposed residence. The tags on the vehicles in the driveway don’t come back as registered to him. This is known as a bad start to a PI’s day.

6:07 AM

The Subject’s neighbor is already on his front porch eyeing me. Long, scraggly hair, tattered shorts, no shirt, prison tats…Speed Freak. Oh, great.

6:14 AM

Speed Freak neighbor is real spooked. The speed makes them hyper aware and super paranoid, neither of which I care to deal with at this time of the morning. He saw me pull up, so he knows I’m in the van. He's probably been up all night scratching the bugs under his skin. Just a matter of time before he comes over.

6:23 AM

Can I pick em’, or what? Speed freak walks up to the van and knocks on my window.

Asks if he can help me.

I somewhat impolitely suggest that as he appears to be unable to help himself, he certainly is in no position to help me or others similarly situated.

I’m a bear before I finish my first cup of coffee.

Speed Freak adopts a very un-Christian attitude towards my endeavors and makes salacious and unsubstantiated claims about my mother. This prompts me to exit the vehicle to request further clarification; however, Speed Freak wisely opts to return to the cozy confines of his meth lab. I knew there was a reason God made me 6’2.

6:43 AM

Speed Freak lets his yap mutt out to bark at my vehicle incessantly. I reach into the back seat for a box of doggie treats I keep for such occasions. I throw Fido a Milkbone and he decides I’m a friend worth having. Try again, Speed Freak.

8:45 AM

Still no sign of the Subject. I place a call to his number to verify I have the right address. I tell him I’m with a courier company and I have a package to deliver to him. I must have the wrong address, though, because there’s no such house number on this street.

Subject becomes suspicious and says he’s not expecting a package.

I suggest that it is not so much a package as a small envelope…the kind with a window…looks like it might possibly have a check inside…

Subject suddenly feels incredibly cooperative and proceeds to give me his complete name and address. Now I know I’m at the right place and that he’s home.

Gordon Gekko was right.

Greed is good.

To Be Continued…

Feeling Hot Hot Hot

Okay. I think I’ve beat the point to death that there’s TV private eye work and there’s reality PI work.

TV PI’s drive sweet cars around exotic locations and fall bass ackwards into clues and evidence.

Reality PI’s drive minivans with dark tint and sit all day in one spot, just praying that their subject becomes active so they can turn on the engine and the air conditioning.

That’s right, kids. They have to sit there with the engine OFF. You did realize that, right?

I mean, what good does it do to have dark tint and window curtains if you leave the motor running, announcing to the world that someone is sitting inside that blacked out van?

So you sit and you sweat. Just a trickle at first as the sun makes its slow climb over the horizon.

Then around 10 am your van begins to transition from surveillance vehicle to Crock Pot. You turn on your battery operated fan, which only succeeds in circulating the sweltering air around, causing you to sweat out of literally every pore in your body.

Sound fun yet? Hey some people pay good money for a nice hot sauna.

God forbid your subject is still inactive come Noon.

Now granted I live in Texas, where Christmas is the day you only turn the AC down to 75. It’s hot in the Lone Star State. But I’ve done surveillance all over the country. Trust me folks, it’s hot ANYWHERE in a surveillance van at high noon.

And just when you’re sure your seconds away from succumbing to a massive heat stroke, your subject comes outside and hits the street.

You jump into the front and hit the ignition, cranking the AC knob up to stun as the Freeon Goddess blankets you with her icy mercy.

Ahhhhh, merciful air conditioner. I am thy servant…

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