Debriefing On Spy Spa Retreat; or Why I Stopped Socializing With Colleagues

Plotting my escape strategy from Margarita Night with Laura "Empress of the Universe" Croft.

Once that DJ started playing Hall & Oat's "Private Eyes", I knew it was time to make my escape.

I really need to make friends outside of my Elite Special Agent / International Spy Circles. It’s far too small a world, and It’s becoming quite a bore, as a recent annual conclave at the Spy Spa Retreat proved. Why did I even go? What was I thinking?

Laura “Empress of the Universe” Croft and I are back on speaking terms (since she finally returned my Kunikane). And… let’s just say Laura’s issues have issues. Our first night there she had too much to drink and got carried away, going on and on how “… I’d leave it all behind in a heartbeat if I could just find a good man who loves me for who I am and settle down,  I’m not getting any younger Vulva and I’d like to have a baby —  I don’t know, maybe six, I could adopt…” Christ, she’s seriously lost her edge.

The Good news: my ex, James “Quantum of Lame” Bond was a no-show. I swear if I have to watch him talk with his mouth full one more time I’m gonna flick a cyanide capsule in his trap myself. But I digress… The Bad news: They reason for his absence, according to Iterpol, is because he was tied up getting my Stupid Sister Viva past customs. Those two really do deserve each other. If they ever moved in together, it would literally be a house of mirrors. The two vainest people I know.

Ethan “Runt” Hunt managed to tear himself away from his latest project “Operation: Glory Hole” (which he is taking FOREVER to “research” in San Francisco) and grace us with his presence. He’s absolutely unbearable these days, always trying so hard to be the strongest/fastest/best-liked in that overcompensating way that short, closeted Scientologists often do. But I digress.

The “Bourne” Boob was there and all mopey, sitting alone posing at the end of the bar. He was never terribly interesting in the first place. But lately, he seems to be taking himself (and his image) a little too seriously, like he’s trying to be George Clooney or Brad Pitt. I’ll give him credit though, he’s dressing much more nicely these days.

The Cessna awaits and I’m slipping away for a real holiday at an undisclosed location with an unnamed travel companion. This is one Secret Agent who likes to keep her secrets secret… Ciao, darling!

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One Response to Debriefing On Spy Spa Retreat; or Why I Stopped Socializing With Colleagues

  1. Lane Lombardia says:

    Happy Birthday Agent Fervor

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