What Me, an Air Marshal?

Or am I over-qualified?

By Cynthia Adams

It happens that the United States government needs writers monitoring America’s airway. We are uniquely qualified.

How do I know this? 

Because no less than Corey Rzucidlo of the Federal Air Marshal Service messaged me. Via LinkedIn.

“Your background is impressive,” he writes, “and I encourage you to learn more about the Federal Air Marshal (FAM) role. No law enforcement experience is required. We provide excellent federal benefits, extensive training and extraordinary opportunities for growth.”

Corey’s message was welcome news, the Balm of Gilead, at a time of professional insecurities. 

The fact that the Feds want to enlist me follows on the heels of a bank meeting where my advisor, John, reviewed IRAs, SEPs and other “instruments” I’ve, um, underfunded. The graph of my investments plunged lower than a Kardashian’s neckline. 

“You mean, you write as a full-time job?” John asked pointedly. 

I practiced effective silence.

John recalibrated. “I mean, how cool is that?”

He probably didn’t mean cool.

But back to the new U.S. Marshal opportunity.

Finally, someone noticed the toolkit we writers uniquely possess. Wondering which quality tipped the scales, I conducted a thorough self-analysis. “Self,” I asked, “what did a Federal Air Marshal recruiter see in you that compelled him to reach out?”

Was it punning? Or cunning?

Had he read my take-off on Grace and Frankie? Or did Mama Buys a Horse get flagged during transportation searches? 

Whatever had attracted it, there was Corey’s unmistakable interest. Other qualifications were self-evident:

True, I’ve flown on airplanes. Hither and yon. Excepting the Poles, South America, the Middle East, Asia and Russia.

True, I make scrupulous note of fellow passengers and assess each as they board, with special focus upon footwear and accessories. 

It is also true: A writer’s imagination could help anticipate thorny in-flight situations. Plus, having heard confidences during countless interviews, discretion is my middle name.

While Air Marshals might possibly be given pause by a recruit of my physical size — rather petite — and demographic, think of the cover it affords!

Why, middle-aged women are practically invisible! Agents of chaos and such would never be suspicious of me.

Should push come to shove, I could probably be tucked into an overhead bin. 

But I also know when to shut down nonsense. As for recent incidents when passengers punched flight attendants? Not on my watch, I assure you! Or, say, a passenger attempts to wrench open the emergency door? No way, Jose!

Another strength: admission of failures. 

On 9/10/2001, I absentmindedly packed a vintage cake knife into my carryon — en route to a South African wedding. 

It is also true that I accidentally returned from London with a forgotten apple in my pocket. The darling beagle tracking me upon my stateside arrival was not friendly simply because he recognized a dog lover when he saw one. Nope, he simply smelled a smuggler with furtive fruit.

Surely, such oversights shouldn’t be dealbreakers. 

Applicants to the Federal Air Marshal Service must be a U.S. citizen or nationalized. Check. You must have a favorable background investigation. Check. A polygraph exam must be completed in Washington, D.C., or Atlantic City in New Jersey, of all places. 

Wait. Are polygraph experts in Washington and Atlantic City uniquely qualified to detect liars and cheaters?     

Also, Federal Air Marshals must demonstrate “defensive tactics and physical control techniques.”

My husband is happy to be a reference.

Selective Service registration is required. Whaaa? Seems the age minimum is 21 and maximum 40. 

But there are exceptions! Current or prior service in law enforcement is one. 

Surely, my dedicated Community Watch service counts for something?

Meanwhile, I’m reading up on the art of concealment — who cares if it was about undereye darkness? — and cannot wait until John gets a load of my new opportunity.

Cynthia Adam is a contributing editor to O.Henry magazine.