Introduction

Over the years, much has been written about the FBI. There are all sorts of books that tell the stories of great cases, great agents, and the Bureau’s great history. From gun battles to organized crime, political corruption and, of course, terrorism, the FBI has been everywhere, involved in everything. All of these things have been written in one place or another and are readily available to the reader motivated to learn about them.

If that is what you’re looking for, then you have purchased the wrong book. However, thank you anyway, as I greatly appreciate the royalty payment.

As so much has already been written, why am I adding another book to the large inventory of FBI stories that already exists? Because there is nothing within these previously published works that’s very funny. While most law enforcement matters are deadly serious, there’s another side to the job that every cop, agent, trooper, investigator, and detective knows is humorous. When we sat around after work in bars and at barbecues, it wasn’t the serious work we reminisced about. The conversation always turned to hilarious moments of who did what and to whom. For whatever reason, no one has taken the time to put these lighter moments on paper, or for you millennials, into tiny electrons. Until now.

Here’s an example of the kind of story you’re in for in the pages ahead:

Another Step Toward Greatness

A student-written, directed, and produced contemporary Greek tragedy was showing at San Diego State University’s Don Powell Theatre as part of the Theatre, Television and Film program. One of the lead actors was a large African-American guy. For his commanding performance, he’d dyed his hair blond (think Goldilocks). He was in his early 20s, a hopeful performing arts major at the college. All that stood between him and greatness was the warrant I held in my hands for his arrest.

It seemed my wannabe criminal-actor decided to rob a bank just days before his performance. He had no criminal record and clearly no criminal experience. Note to you readers who are contemplating a life of crime: If you happen to be a 275-pound, dark-skinned African-American male, don’t dye your afro bright blond and then walk into a bank with surveillance cameras and witnesses unless you’re wearing a disguise. Think hat, mask, anything. However, if you opt to wear a stocking mask, make sure it’s not the see-through kind, like another one of my bank robbers wore in a prior case. The sheer nylon—which made his skin appear silky smooth—did nothing to hide his facial features.

Anything that hides your appearance will do. Alas, my bank-robbing thespian hadn’t thought ahead, and identifying him was incredibly easy. After a