Pocky Central

When I moved back to the U.S. from Japan in 2002, I had absolutely no job prospects. None. I looked, but there wasn’t really anyone hiring, at least, not that I could find.

So on a lark, I applied to the F.B.I. Yes, that F.B.I. (I also applied to the C.I.A., but that went absolutely nowhere)

I was hoping they might want someone to translate Japanese documents or something. I really wasnt’ expecting to hear back, though. The Yakuza really aren’t a huge problem in the U.S. these days (at least, not that I know of), so I figured my applying to the F.B.I. was just a shot in the dark.

To my surprise, I got a response from them later in 2003. To be a special agent. (I must have clicked on that, too, when I did my online application)

So, I got my invitation to take the first of several tests to see if I was good enough to get to the second stage of application. Letters in hand, I went to this center (somewhere in Maryland - I honestly don’t remember where), where many other people waited, all in suits, to take the written exam.

The test started, and the hours flew by. The questions ranged from ‘what would you do in this situation’ to practical knowledge questions to questions about my personality and such. After the test ended, I went home, figuring that I wouldn’t get a call back.

But I did. I got a letter stating that I was chosen for the second stage of application - physical fitness. (Those of you who know me know that while I am not a super-fat guy, I am hardly Captain America… hell, I’m not even Corporal U.S. Guy) They wanted me to lose around fifty (50) pounds in a month or so, if I remember right. And to be able to do a 15 minute mile. (I can do, at this point, a 20-22 minute run… maybe)

In addition, my mother, who I get a lot of my worrying from, flat out told me that she didn’t want me to be a ‘cop’. I told her that I would likely not need to use my gun (I wasn’t sure, honestly; I have no idea how often an F.B.I. agent has to pull their firearm out), but she was adamant. And that, coupled with the sudden need for weight loss (fifty pounds in a month and some is not healthy) led me to decide to not go through with it.

But sometimes I wonder, what would have happened if I had gone through with it, and managed to pass the test. Where would I live? What would I be doing, exactly? How would the last few years have gone?

F.B.I. Agent Richard Kim. Kind of has a nice ring to it, I guess.

This entry was posted on Friday, January 5th, 2007 at 9:42 pm and is filed under Personal, Work-related. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.