Secret Agent Man

When you’re related to or married to someone in the military, there’s a good chance that you’ll have to provide a character reference for that person at some point because of security clearance. Basically this is to make sure this person doesn’t have ties to some kind of terrorist organization.

The first time I ever did a character reference was before I was married, but not long after we’d gotten engaged. I had no idea what to expect. My husband was still in college and I had just graduated. He’d been informed that he was selected for pilot training, so he needed character references for security clearance. Just as a note, this story is much funnier when I tell it in person, but I’m assuming you have a good imagination.

I was leaving work for the day when I noticed I had a voicemail on my phone. It was from a special agent asking for a time to meet to discuss my then fiancé (now husband). He appeared to have a slight accent and the message involved a lot of dramatic pauses before names like “Hello. This message is for… (pause) Lindsey.” I’d write the whole thing out, but you get the idea. He asked me to call him back to schedule a time to meet and discuss my husband. We set up a time and he said he’d call me with a place near my house that morning.

The morning of our meeting arrived and I received another call from the special agent. It went something like this (the ellipses are all of his dramatic pauses):

“Good morning… Lindsey. This is special agent… (Well, I’m going to leave off his name just to be safe.) Is this morning still a … good time? Well, then I will meet you at… (very dramatic pause here) The Panera Bread! (I’ve seriously never heard anyone say Panera Bread with such enthusiasm and drama!) I am in a suit. You will know me when you see me. I am… hard to miss. See you… Soon.”

When I arrived at Panera, I saw immediately what he meant by being hard to miss. There in the Panera of an upper class neighborhood sat a younger looking version of Saddam Hussein. I am not kidding. This guy was a dead ringer for him. I’m not sure how, but he knew who I was right away (well, I guess because he’s a special agent). He introduced himself and shook my hand, then he showed me his credentials. I looked them over, as if I’d actually know what to look for, and smiled at him. He asked if we could begin and I agreed.

Him: “Please tell me about your relationship.”

Me: “Well, he’s my fiancé but we’ve been friends since we were 15.”

Him: “Then these questions will seem… very absurd to you.”

Me: “Ok, sounds good!”

Basically he asked me about my husband’s character and if he had ties to any controversial organizations. He asked me to describe him and for a brief moment I thought, if I wanted to, I could really have some fun with this! I decided against it though, because we’d both probably end up on the no-fly list or at Guantanamo Bay or something. Not going to lie, though, this thought has crossed my mind when I’m tired of being by myself all the time. I’m kidding… Mostly.

Since that particular Panera franchise is right next to the neighborhood I grew up in, I can rarely go in there without seeing someone I know. This day was no different. I must have seen at least 7 people I knew in that short span of time who all looked at me curiously, probably wondering why I was sitting at a table with a well dressed Saddam doppelganger. It was definitely one of the more weird days of my life. The interview didn’t take long and I was out of there pretty fast.

Last year, his clearance was about to expire, so I received a call from a different special agent who was female and used far fewer dramatic pauses. Since I was home in Florida for vacation, I met her at, you guessed it… The Panera Bread! She didn’t say it with anywhere near the drama and enthusiasm as the first guy, though.

When Appliances Attack- Sprinklers

It seems that whenever your husband is away, anything that can go wrong will. I guess it’s Murphy’s law for a military wife (if you know me personally, you know why that’s particularly funny). It’s no different for me. I find myself in precarious and weird situations wondering if Ashton Kutcher is going to pop out at any moment and tell me I’ve been Punked.

It’s not that I can’t handle it, in fact, these situations make me really good at troubleshooting. If nothing else, they make entertaining stories.

My husband was deployed last summer and it was a hot one. I noticed that it hadn’t rained in a while and parts of our usually very resilient lawn were starting to get a little dried out. Not wanting a nasty letter from our incredibly vigilant homeowner’s association, I decided to water it.

The front lawn was pretty easy since there’s a sprinkler system installed. However, to turn it on, you have to use a large key to twist a knob situated in the ground under a plastic cover. I uncovered the hole and quietly yelped when a bunch of little frogs came hopping out onto my feet. I don’t have a problem with frogs, but when you’re not expecting them to jump out at you from a random hole in the ground it can be startling.

The backyard was a little trickier. For some reason, our homebuilder didn’t feel a sprinkler system would be necessary in our little backyard. I have 2 different sprinkler heads for the hose- the first one is the old school sprinkler head that ticks around in a circle. The second is the kind that shoots water up and simply goes back and forth. (This is the kind that is fun to run through when you're a kid.) I decided the second will be easier to use.

Apparently, I have chosen wrong.

I figured, you plug in the hose, turn on the water, and that’s that. Sounds easy enough, right? Wrong. I turn on the water and evidently didn’t adjust the streams right, so now I am watering my whole backyard, our backdoor neighbors backyard, our back porch, and me. I run to shut off the water and adjust the flow, and turn it back on again. Now, it’s far too small, and barely watering a few feet… If this story is sounding familiar, I assure you it doesn’t end with me finding the setting that is “just right.”

When I decide that I am tired of running back and forth to the spigot on the side of the house and I have the brilliant idea to adjust the spray while it’s still on. I wait for the right moment and then run in and adjust, but once again, it’s too much. For some reason, I continue to try this method of running and adjusting. At this point, the entire right side of my body is soaked, but amazingly, my left side stays pretty much dry. I keep this up while swearing under my breath and tripping over my now slippery flip-flops.

Just after I’ve finally given up, my backdoor neighbor comes out to do something. I’m sure she’s noticed her lawn is wet on this dry and sunny late afternoon, but she simply says hello. I turn so that my left (and mostly dry) side is facing her as I try to inconspicuously roll up the hose. We make awkward small talk as I keep the right (soaked) side of myself facing toward my house. I’m sure she’s wondering what on earth I’m doing as start walking sideways and tripping over my own feet. I wish her a pleasant evening and duck inside the house to dry off. I honestly think learning a rain dance may have been more helpful… Clearly I have issues if I'm unable to get sprinklers to work properly.

Sometimes, I can’t help but wonder if I’m on Totally Hidden Video after things like that. Surely there is a compilation of me somewhere that includes me fighting with the printer as it violently spews paper, pleading with an overflowing toilet, or spilling flour all over myself and the kitchen.

What can I say? Putting myself in odd situations is a talent of mine :)