Tikkabik

This morning I was working in my customary pre-lunch way: In the living room, in an easy chair, in a pair of boxers. I saw a guy stroll up the driveway to the door and ring the bell, so I went running upstairs to put on some clothes.

Clean cut, with a black suit jacket and a tie. No sign of a car anywhere in the driveway.

"Great," said I. "Jehovah's Witness or a Mormon, probably."

I opened the door and steeled myself for a confrontation with an unwanted religious missionary when the guy introduced himself and whipped out a federal ID badge.

U.S. Secret Service.

Yeah, no shit. That's what I thought, too.

Turned out an old neighbor of ours was interested in a job working in the Secret Service, and had to pass a background check. As part of it, they send around field agents to ask neighbors about them. The family was really quiet and quite polite, so she passed with flying colors (I think).

This whole incident didn't strike me as unusual as you might think. The guy who lives on the other side of us had to go through the same thing when he took a job with the Yarmouth P.D. last year.

Anyway, U.S. Secret Service. Go figure. He was dressed in black, but no sign of a Neuralizer. I think. I think I remember the whole interview anyway.