Thursday, 12 February 2015

My Moral Compass and Organized Crime

It’s been said that I would make a terrible criminal. I think that’s ironic given that I am obsessed with organized crime and murder programs. I can’t get enough of Investigation ID. I think I could give up just about any of my cable channels if I could keep that one.

The titles of the shows themselves are inspired. Snapped, Murder Comes to Town, Mobsters, Homicide Hunter (love that one!), Forensic Factor, Deadly Sins, Sins and Secrets, Deadly Affairs, Fatal Vows. Ok, admittedly, maybe inspired is a bit strong since reading those titles back put me in mind of several romance novels from the 70s.

But I digress.

I picture myself as a mob boss quite often. I feel that I could totally pull this off. I imagine myself sitting at a boardroom table tenting my fingers and deciding who needs to get “whacked.” I think I would call myself The Face, but sit with my back to people, shrouded in shadows so people wouldn’t actually see my face. I think that’s a pretty intimidating image, don’t you?

Anyway, I would run all kinds of raquets (or is it rackets?) and have many soldiers out on the streets taking care of business. I would never have to put air in my own tires or pump my own gas. I would never have to take out the recycling, compost or touch anything gross and I would have people to piggyback me around town with a pedometer on so I will clock the steps without having to actually step. I would also be first in line at Starbucks (particularly sweet when the Saturday morning “run club” comes in and tries to takeover).

I would have a few rules too;  no teasing puppies,  no stealing from the Salvation Army drums (although I’m flexible on whether or not they steal the jingle bells at Christmas), no yelling at pharmacists as they are my friends and no overdoing it at the Costco sample tables (that’s just tacky).

The truth of all of this lies in the fact that as much as I would like to be flexible with my moral crime compass, the idea of actually getting in any kind of trouble leaves me palpitating and incapable of talking. Just ask my husband. I freeze up during RIDE season and I don’t even drink for God’s sake.

Still, participating in a crime spree does hold appeal for me, but don’t tell my mom. She doesn’t like crime as much as I do and wouldn’t understand.

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