It’s like being a spy

I once read that being a spy comprises mostly of travel and mind-numbing boredom broken by brief interludes of sheer terror. In my opinion, that sounds a lot like a GA shift. You go check the police blotters, maybe pick up some documents from the courthouse, drive to an accident scene…but most of the time you sit at the desk and pray for something to come across the scanner.

A shooting, maybe. Nothing lethal. Just some shots fired and someone taken to the hospital. Or perhaps a car crash with minor injuries. And then it does happen. And you have 10 different people to call and email and a brief to write and it has to be done right now. And at that exact moment a soccer-mom decides to call and interrogate you about why the picture some photographer took of her son two weeks ago hasn’t been on the front page. 

But after you handle the soccer-mom, call the police and the hospital and write up the brief, you’re thrust back into the boredom. Waiting for the next rush. 

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