I can never be a movie secret agent/spy

By | June 4, 2014

We all grew up with James Bond, Ethan Hunt and Kim Possible, so we pretty much all at one point or another imagined living the life of the secret agent. [Insert your name here]. Super spy!

I may or may not still get a bit carried away in this fantasy world. Alas! For me it will always have to remain a fantasy. I can never be a secret agent or spy and here’s why:

1. I don’t blend in.

As much as our intrepid hero-spy is suave and dapper one requirement is that they are able to blend in. They should not stand out in a crowd and be able to fade into the background without drawing attention to themselves.

I cannot blend in. Because I am large. I’m talking people phoning the zoo to check whether a gorilla has escaped large. So you see, I stand out. In a crowded space, people look for me over the crowd to know where they should be going.

“Where are we heading?”. “Just look for the beacon tower we call Mr. Sinister”

Like this. Only I don't look as good in a dress

Like this. Only I don’t look as good in a dress


2. The ‘On the run appearance change’ won’t work

You know what I mean. Our hero-spy is busy running away from their pursuers through busy markets and streets. While running they grab a cap and a jacket or some article of clothing of a line/rack/table and change it for what they are wearing to change their look so as to not easily be spotted by those hunting them. Not counting the fact that I stand out like one of those mining trucks with the really long flags, this will not work for me.

You think the flag sticks out?

You think the flag sticks out?

I have to spend hours, if not days, going from shop to shop, just to find a jacket/jersey/shirt that fits. Often times our intrepid hero grabs something that is a bit too large and that’s fine. I think I would look rather ridiculous running through a crowd wearing a 6 man tent though.

3. I’m an easy target

Granted, movies would have you believe that most bad guys couldn’t hit the broadside of a hotdog stand and our dashing spy-hero could ballet and tango through all the lead being thrown in their direction with nary a care.

I’m concerned that should anyone start shooting at me, the lucky shot would be the one that didn’t hit me. All the aforementioned physical gifts I have would make trying to shoot my ass into a regular open field duck hunt. Fun for the shooter but I don’t think I would be laughing all that much.

So my career as a super spy is nipped in the bud before it even began. That’s ok though. I think I’m going to start working towards my next dream career. Being a house husband. With a cleaning crew.

Oi! Point that thing somewhere else.

Mr. Sinister

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