We watched The Bourne Identity on video last night. It was OK, I guess. I thought it was a little unclear what was going on. I expected it to be a good, cloak and dagger type spy movie with intrigue and double-crosses and mystery. The only mystery was created by the movie not giving the viewer a very clear idea on what the heck was going on. It was just an action movie. I was expecting Three Days of the Condor and what I got was Rambo Does France. I wasn’t expecting it to be like the book; I knew it wouldn’t be. I was however, at least expecting it to be interesting.
I told Jen during the movie that I thought I could be an assassin. She laughed, asked why I thought that. I told her I liked guns, I’m smart, trainable, I generally don’t like people much, and I’m cold blooded. She just snorted and laughed again. This time I could see her clearly and I knew it was not a delirious giggle that slipped out while she was imagining the riches of an assassin’s wife; it was not the nervous chuckle of her thinking, “my gosh, he is cold. What is he capable of?” No, it was a snort of derision. Right afterward she said, “You cold never be an assassin. You’re a big chicken.” Nothing like spousal support, eh. That was pretty much the end of that alternate career path. Maybe she should be the assassin; she’s the truly cold one. At one point during the “discussion” she even said, “yeah, you an assassin. You’re half right.” Give it a minute, you’ll get it.
If I’m not assassin material then why, when I fastened the toothbrush head to my SonicCare toothbrush this morning, did it seem just like tightening a silencer onto a Walther PPK?