If I Wasn’t a Writer, I Would Have Become a Spy

A satirical glimpse into a life I could have lived.

I’ve spent my life dedicated to espionage, taking out fanatics, and frightfully formidable criminals you will never have to know existed.

I have stopped catastrophes and saved you from perils you couldn’t imagine. Nearly sacrificing my life, many times over, so that the masses may sleep soundly at night.

Why do I do it, you ask? While not particularly virtuous, I do have a firm sense of right or wrong (when I choose to follow my conscience). Genuinely, I believe in just acts and have witnessed their power.

… Honestly, overall, I do it for the thrill.

I revel in my autonomy, slipping through countries around the world undetected, tipping the scales wherever and whenever I see fit. I’ll take my chances with my earthbound deeds in the afterlife; I haven’t met a devil I couldn’t overcome yet. How could my karmic fate not be fair, after ridding the world of so much evil intent?

I will confess I’m a bit disappointed with my latest assignment.

No one in our intelligence department has been able to adequately explain to me how the most incredible threat to the world… is currently a washed-up reality tv star that managed to swing enough electoral votes to become the POTUS?

I’ve spent three long grueling years infiltrating their ranks. After all of my extensive training, nothing could have prepared me for the reality of daily life entrenched deep in the POTUS circle.

The hypocrisy of his rhetoric begets sheer agony, regularly testing the boundaries of my sanity.

Remember the anonymous op-ed about the Trump administration, written by a mysterious insider claiming to be part of “the resistance?” Writing that was honestly the most fun I’d had in a year.

I had to create a story, fabricate my sympathy for POTUS, manage not to divide, and yet still find a way to instill my message of hope. Sometimes, I wonder if I should have followed my dream of becoming a writer instead of a secret agent.

Meanwhile, 007 has been living it up. He’s in South America hanging tight with a Cartel, doing copious amounts of cocaine, and banging high-end Brazillian escorts because the one thing he can’t swing, is an American accent?

I call bullshit. Due to 007’s supposed vice, instead of sampling Colombia’s finest, while sunbathing on my new Druglord boyfriends yacht, undercover on the Mediterranean sea; for the past three years, I’ve been saddled with POTUS.

This is truly a cruel world we live in, and I shall have my revenge.

Don’t you judge me. I’d love to see you try keeping a straight face sitting next to Queen of the Damned (code name, also known as Kellyanne Conway) gossiping about the D.C. royalty while getting your toenails done (her feet are in fact webbed if you’re wondering).

Or, an afternoon attempting not to gouge your own eyes out, shopping for the 15th Birkin bag that week with the Vacant Princess (code name aka Ivanka) asking “does this color makes me look complicit?” continually.

How about pretending to not only enjoy, but enthusiastically appreciate Jared’s “ideas” as a senior advisor? I’ve never felt so dead inside, yet more alive.

I’m frankly suspicious that Melania might actually be a Spy from another realm. Don’t let those uninhabited, yet Satanic eyes and her “be best” slogan fool you.

Honestly, I rarely see her…no one does. What’s most disturbing is that no one really talks about how she’s always suddenly missing without a trace. It’s like they don’t even notice, or remember.

I often wonder where is Melania? Her ability to evade my attempts to surveil her is remarkable; which has led us to believe she may, in fact, be a shapeshifter. Meeting one has been on my bucket list for years, so there’s a silver lining.

I have a confession to make.

I report directly to the True Supreme Ruler of the World… Dave Chappelle. You should know he has given me the choice to proceed, however, I deem appropriate. In fact, he specifically told me to not only have fun, but to make this memorable (at least I think that’s what he said, we got pretty high).

Unfortunately, this unusual freedom has gripped me with analysis paralysis. There are simply too many possible ends to this story to choose from. The truth is that I’ve been sitting on actual evidence for the past four months. Finally. You heard me, shatter-proof evidence. I can end this whenever I want to.

Please let me revel in victory for a few more months, after my time served. I want this to be perfect. Should I reveal it to seem accidentally negligent? Or mysterious foul play to haunt, and incite his base into anarchy (could be fun, no)? Should he never know it was I?

Or do I want to look him in the eye and tell him to his face. Interrupt him mid-tweet and say, “it was me who done it”. That alone, will be worth everything I’ve endured. I just haven’t been able to pull the trigger on my plan yet.

Something has gotten a hold of me that I can’t explain. My morbid curiosity is forcing me to let this play out (I now wonder if that is the real reason why God doesn’t intervene?).

This administration has been the most magnificent train wreck I’ve ever personally witnessed, and to have a front-row seat no less! I just can’t help myself, but hold on for dear life while the circus barrels onto the next destination.

The ecstasy, and agony of being this deep undercover for so long has taken over my senses. Maybe my perception of right and wrong has skewed.

What has all my effort in ridding the world of all the previous bad guys gotten us, when the public was unaware?

I’ll admit I feel somewhat responsible for the appalling number of people in the United States that are not only lazy, but willfully ignorant. Why? They never had to be informed, or vigilant because people like me are doing the heavy lifting.

The world has gone mad, even “White Evangelicals See Trump as Honest and Morally Upstanding.” Yes, you just read that headline correctly. They appear to listen to everything POTUS says, as damn near a commandment from God. He must be revealed for the fraud he is.

I knew I would regret negotiating the postponement of the second coming of Jesus Christ. It’s easy to see the error of my judgment (pun intended) in hindsight, but at the time I couldn’t imagine a bigger buzz kill.

Full transparency, I had tickets to Ibiza, Coachella and Burning Man that year; not a great time to repent. Jesus, was really cool about it.

Because of my selfish mistake, the U.S. has gone to hell in a handbasket. Although, I would dare to argue that perhaps a little adversity is just what the doctor ordered.

A lesson to be learned by a nation, the true ramifications of which we’ll simply be left to ponder presently. One day, after enough time has passed we’ll all look back, and be able to clearly see what this detour truly meant for the United States, the world and future generations.

Maybe I’ll change my mind, and intervene.

Say tonight… I might snap after watching just one more New York Steak cooked well done, and further desecrated with ketchup over Easter weekend. But, I haven’t snapped yet, and in any case, I’m late for Bible study with my new bestie, Mike Pence. We’re organizing the annual White House Easter Egg Roll together.

Traditionally that’s the job of the First Lady, but as you’re aware, she’s MIA (I assume visiting her Sith Overlord in a distant galaxy). Naturally in her absence, Mike should take the role. I’m sure Melania will show up dressed impeccably with serpent-like precision, just in the nick of time for the TV crews, as usual.

I feel like I truly need to soak this experience into my bones, and work out the psychology of everyone’s characters. Dave and I are planning on making a movie about this when its all said and done. It’s obviously going to be a blockbuster.

As for me? I’m looking forward to disappearing for a while; white sand on a quiet beach.

And honestly, after all of this don’t you just want to know how the hell it all organically ends?

And really, don’t worry. I’m nothing if not a professional, it’s only a matter of time before things are squared up, one way or the other.

This is in response to a writing prompt “If I Wasn’t a Writer…” initially started by the hilarious, and slightly twisted… Sherry McGuinn

Rebecca Dumas, Megan Brown, Nikolaos Barbaressos, Cristina Oliva Patrick, Amy Cottreau and Sarah Jayne Baker… If you weren’t a writer, what would you be? Tag, you’re it!

Thanks to Chris Hedges 🦄 and Meeta Seth for participating, and also tagging me.

➡️ Jezebel Feast is the editor of “Jezebel’s Feast,” a personal blog focused on the vast topic of living a sustainable lifestyle. Visit her new home jezebelsfeast.com. Want to keep in touch? Catch Jeze on Instagram 📸 or Pinterest 📌…🔗…🚀