I still remember the wisdom my Father passed to me before he died from his wounds after a fight with a possum: “Lucinda, you must listen. If you ever need to find something…call a private investigator. They’re really good at finding things. It’s their job.”
And you know, I’ve found that to be excellent advice. The next day, I called up a private investigator and asked him to track down the offending possum, so that I could exact bloody revenge. The day after, I realised that I’d left my phone on the train, so I got the PI to track that down as well. And then I called him to find my keys, because I knew they were in either the kitchen or the lounge.
Anyway, he quit, but I’ve continued to use their service to great effect. My friend needs a really good tattoo artists in Delhi? I called a PI, he looked it up on his computer presumably (or he could’ve had some mad networking skills, even for tattoos) and sent me the info. Boom. My friend in India got an awesome tattoo done of himself riding a jet-ski over the Sydney Opera House while a baby panda in star-shaped sunglasses peeked out of his backpack, and I’ll never understand that, but we have to accept our friends for who they are, not who we want them to be.
I should get a tattoo. A tattoo of a PI finding me a thing, because that’s how I choose to live my life. Let everyone else find things using words and the internet and sometimes one of those Y-shaped sticks that helps you find water, supposedly! Private investigators are honourable people who’ve made it their mission to find things, so why not use them?
You know, I think I want to get a tattoo myself, depicting myself, talking to a private investigator. I’m totally going to hire a private investigator to find me a tattoo shop open in Brisbane, so I can get a tattoo of a private investigator helping me find a place to get a tattoo of myself getting a private investigator to find me a tattoo, depicting a private investigator.
On second thoughts, I’m going to lie down.