This is Agent Siegel

We all know how computers and algorithms work. 

You shop for latex bedsheets or the soothing sexy sounds of Kenny G, once, and suddenly your social media feed is nothing but alternative bedding come-ons and invitations to join a weird international swath of Kenny G Facebook Groups. 

So I suppose I should not be surprised when I started noticing recruitment ads from the Federal Bureau of Investigation. In my spare time between copywriting spurts, I often find myself burrowing down various internet rabbit holes. Many times on the goings on in Washington DC. 

Moreover, my interest in the FBI is not a new one. 

Now that I'm 44 years old and some would argue in the later stages of my advertising career, I have considered various, how shall we say, exit plans. And a stint in law enforcement actually caught my fancy.

Mind you, with a bad hip and knees damaged from years of 10K and marathon racing, I have no interest in running down skels through the back alleys of Culver City. Though I wouldn't mind getting one of those snazzy FBI windbreakers pictured above.

But I could actually see myself in a war room, working with other creative imaginative minds, to piece together information and scenarios that could unravel some of the bureau's long-standing Gordian knots.

I love the idea of staring at a cork board laced with photos and red string. 

I understand that can come off as being incredibly immodest, but I truly believe the skills many of us have honed in advertising can be redirected into other fields. These include the pairing of non-sequitur competing concepts, the distilling of massive amounts of data, the understanding of social landscape, the willingness to step out of one's comfort zone and of course, the massive consumption of coffee and sometimes mind altering drugs.

Truth be told, I'm already halfway qualified. 

I already have the girthy dad bod of an older FBI agent.

I can't tell you how many times people on the street have taken one look at my thick furry mustache and asked if I was a cop.

I have no problem shaving my head to meet FBI stringent hair regulations.

And within the last week, for reasons I cannot divulge, I passed a comprehensive personal, educational, criminal and professional background check. ( I guess the "sheep incident of 1993" slipped through the cracks.)

I wonder what kind of badge they'll give me.