Tuesday, August 15, 2006
P.I. & U.

Are you secretive, sneaky and snoopy? Does your management radar alert you to when the boss is coming to make a friendly inspection of your office chair? Have you sourced out two or ten secret exits for days when you need to nip out of the office, hours before closing time?
If you answered yes to any of these questions, I have good news—you could be ready for an exciting career change. Yes, my secretive, sneaky, snoopy friend, you could become a private investigator!
Frankly, I had not thought of detective work as a possible career until I heard about a new book, Private Investigation 101 by ace P.I., Norma Tillman. Ms. Tillman, a PI with over twenty-five years experience, explains that she wrote the book because so many of her customers were interested in the field.
“Typically, the first question people ask when they find out about the work I do is ‘can you help me find someone,’ and the second is ‘how can I become a private investigator?’”
It’s only natural, I suppose, what with all the TV shows, movies and books that focus on detectives of various types, sizes, and sexes. There’s the classic he-man gumshoe, like Humphrey Bogart’s Sam Spade, the female PI, like Kinsey Milhone and V.I. Warshawski. Lauren Laurano is a lesbian detective and Dave Bradstetter is a homosexual detective. There are detectives who are chefs, accountants, lawyers and playboys. If we looked long enough with could probably find an alien private eye with six eyes who walks those mean galaxies, hunting for crime.
The conclusion is obvious—no matter who you are and what you do, you qualify for a career as a private investigator.
Before you rush to hand in your resignation, you impetuous jack-a-napes, do take a moment to consider Norma Tillman’s caution about the realities of the job. “Being a private investigator is not exactly like what you see in the movies and on television. Cases don’t always wrap up neatly in 30, 60, and 90-minutes. And some of the work is decidedly unglamorous and definitely not cinematic.”
This dose of reality may or may not influence your decision. After all, how difficult will it be to walk away from all the glamour and drama of your present gig, even when you consider giving up all the thrilling staff meetings and intimate tête-à-têtes with the boss?
If you do decide to go ahead with your new career as a PI, Ms. Tillman’s book may be just the ticket. Certainly she has had some memorable experiences, such as dressing like a street person to find a mentally disturbed woman who was hiding from her family. [You could do the same and you wouldn’t even have to put on a costume. If you want mentally disturbed, just go to the office manager and ask for an extra box of paper clips.]
Tillman also recounts working in a topless bar to “save a man from suicide.” Since the sight of thee or me topless would drive most men to suicide, this may be the kind of assignment we’ll have to turn down. But there are plenty of other options.
If you want to be a private dick or jane, here are two tips on how to start:
1. Decide what kind of PI you are going to be.
PIs come in many flavors. Tillman’s practice focuses on finding missing persons, some of whom end up in jail while others end up in surprise family reunions on Oprah. I’ll leave it to you to decide which punishment is worse.
To become a tracer of lost losers one must have experience browsing through computer databases and public records. Just be careful to stay focused on your assignment. The last time I did a computer search I discovered I was the lost heir to crown of Lichtenstein-Herzegovina and frankly, ever since, I haven’t felt the same about fetching my boss’s morning latte.
2. Get some practice
The day of amateur PI is history, and now you must be licensed if you want to privately investigate. But there’s no reason why you can’t do some detecting at your current job, just to see how you like it. Pretend a mysterious blonde has hired you to find out critical information on your boss, like whether he wears boxers or jockeys or maybe, a thong. Even if you never become a PI, with that kind of information, there’s no telling how far you will go.