No Thanks, I Don't Want Any Crack

The trials and tribulations of a Private Investigator can be both hilarious and terrifying.  And boring as fuck. We'll focus on the hilarious and terrifying portions of the job, for the purpose of this entry.  To give those of you who don't know a little background, Private Investigators are hired for a number of reasons.  In their most basic terms, they are hired for insurance fraud or insurance fraud prevention, workers compensation claims, and domestic cases, (those are the real fun ones, where some rich c***t will call us and have us watch her husband cheating on her.)  Good times!

During one particularly brisk morning in the grand city of Lawrence, MA, yours truly was set up to perform surveillance on a side street at 6 a.m.  If you're white and just sitting in a parked car on a side street in Lawrence, you're a cop...except I'm not a cop.  Armed with only a taser, a young fellow who looked less than reputable approached my car.  Barely cracking my driver's side window, I said in the most ghetto voice I could muster.  "What's up."

"Are you a cop."
"Nah dude."
"Ya'll want some crack."
"Ahhh....no thanks, I don't want any crack."
"Well what the fuck you doin' here?"
"I work for an insurance company, just looking for a car to go by." (I obviously didn't want to tell him that I was watching for one of his homies.)
"How 'bout you git the fuck outta here."
"No problem, I was just leaving."

It's not that I was afraid, (ok, maybe a little), but I had been in this same situation a bunch of times.  It was just something about the guy coming strait out and asking if I wanted crack that kind of "got" me.  I laughed as I drove away and called my boss.  "Hey Gator, if you want some crack I found a good connects here in Lawrence." 

"I'm all set Vin, thanks anyways."

One time I drove down to Fall River and had to find out if a woman was working at an African Hair Braiding salon and spa.  I approached the door and walked in like I had been in an African Hair Braiding salon and spa a thousand times.  "How's it going?  I was looking to get a gift certificate for my girl."  I had never seen a more confused face staring back at me.  The black woman behind the counter was nearly speechless.  After making some small talk, I was given a business card which read, "African Hair Braiding, specializing in all kinds of braids.  Corn Rows-Kinky Twists-Micro Invisible-No Knots-Flat Twist-Weaves-And Many More."  Seriously, that's on the card, I have it right in front of me.  What the hell could "And Many More" mean, I thought.

I had a gun pulled on me in Dorchester, MA....and my car needed a jump.  THAT was a fun conversation.

One guy who I was supervising at the time lived in Detroit and was boxed in by three other cars.  He literally had to smash his way out of there, cause the cops sure as shit weren't gonna get there in time to save his white ass.

Another guy came out of his house wielding both a baseball bat and a golf club. "Why does he need both?" I thought.  I actually let this joker get to my car.  (A little inside information, by the way, we never sit in front of the house of the person we're watching, that would be stupid, so normally it's the neighbors we have to deal with.)  I rolled my window down.  "Can I help you insane fuck head?"  I actually asked, "Can I help you good citizen?"

"Why are you here?"
"Before I tell you, are you gonna use either one of those weapons on me or my vehicle."
"It depends."
"Well here's my answer then...I'm working.  That's all I need to tell you.  Go call the cops and ask them, I checked in with them this morning.  So before you run out here in your bathrobe wielding weapons like an asshole, why don't you go through the proper channels first. Sound good?"
"So the cops know you're out here?"
"Here's my cell phone, wanna call them."
He walked away, most likely feeling like a fool.  Ha, neigbors!  The P.I.'s natural enemy.  They are like the snake to our mongoose.

I flew to California to watch a plastic surgeon, who "couldn't perform his duties" any longer.  I watched this fool for five strait days drive his BMW to work, walk in with scrubs on, and take note of all the patients entering.  On the last day of surveillance, I walked into the office and made an appointment with this unsuspecting lard to get a tattoo removed, something, of course, which I had no intention of doing.  Armed with a hidden camera, I was able to get video of this clown exiting an exam room with scrubs and a mask on, and actually get him to tell me that he would be the one to perform my procedure.  In an instant, his multi-million dollar, lifelong disability claim was destroyed.  Sorry Charlie.

One of the more fun surveillance assignments I was given was done with another P.I.  Oh, and I brought my dad along for shits and gigs.  This family from Georgia who probably own some tobacco plantation or some such shit, hired my company to watch the wife of the wealthy husband while she was up in Massachusetts for a "fashion show."  Needless to say, my partner and I, as well as my dad, watched this two-timing bitch cheat on her husband throughout the night.  The best part was that my father and I ate and drank on the client's dime.  At closing time, me and my dad sat in my car across the street from the Boston bar that the wife and her boytoy were attending.  They exited and immediately started going at it against the wall, camera rolling.  My father and I could not control our laughter.  They were making out like two horny high school kids.  I was actually embarrassed for them.  Passerby watched with disgust as they kissed, groped, and fondled each other.  "Money shot."  I told my dad.  The one surveillance he comes with me and we strike gold.  This situation eventually brought me to court, in Georgia, to give a deposition.  We watched the video in the lawyer's office.  I got to describe what was taken in the video with this loser watching over my shoulder to make sure I was telling the truth.  She could say nothing. She was caught red-handed.  The rich family was so grateful that I caught this slut, that they gave me a nice bonus.

I know this wasn't the most entertaining entry, but I was bored.  Stay tuned for my review of 2011, coming in the next couple weeks. 

And hey, if you're legitimately hurt...collect the money you're due.  If your wife our husband is paranoid, maybe you shouldn't be with them anyways.  Private Investigator's are called into action only when there is reasonable cause. So don't hate.  We keep your insurance premiums down and we keep lying, cheating douchebags in check, so remember...we're the good guys.