Every now and then, I gleefully entertain fantasies of laughing in the face of my current job, and becoming a full-time house painter. A mate of mine continues to espouse a theory that a bunch of us could all easily slap a few licks of paint on buildings for a living, but makes the activity sound easier than a Wii minigame. Although it seems like an honest way to earn a crust, I’m pretty sure I’d wind up looking like a washed-up piece of diseased sea anemone at the end of every workday.
There’s been stranger career changes, I suppose. But perhaps none so strange as something that Adam’s currently taking more seriously by the day: the possibility of switching his career from advertising to joining the police force.
As soon as I discovered this, I was asking ridiculously self-centred and inappropriate questions – does he have to keep the uniform at the station? Surely there’s a pair of handcuffs he could bring home with him? What if a thuggish criminal was completely hot and suggestively sprawling his legs while they were alone in a negotiation room?
As it happens, he’s just finished watching the entire series of Recruits as an eager fan. I’d normally pass this off as a passing fascination (I seem to recall he was set on chasing down fugitives after watching too many episodes of Dog the Bounty Hunter a few years ago), but he’s mentioned the idea of becoming a constable many times over the years – looks like it might actually be happening now.
Fortunately, he’s going to use his powers for our personal gain. We’re formulating a plan that our neighbours had better watch out for: he’s going to systematically arrest everyone on our street for the most minor of offenses. Once word starts spreading that we’re living in what seems to be a dangerously crim-addled street, the property prices will invariably begin tumbling downwards – then we can buy up big! Who wants in?
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Advertising to the police force. There has got to be a connection there but I am scratching my head.