texts: I didn't think there were private detectives anymore, except on TV.
labels: You probably expect me to be wearing a trench coat and a hat.  Drinking whiskey, chasing women and getting beaten up by guys with broken noses. Want to know what it's really like? It's sitting in a car and staring at a hotel window for three days straight, pissing in a plastic bottle, pardon me, because some guy thinks his wife's cheating on him. Glamorous, huh?  And the guy who hired you, he has a hair-lip, dandruff and crooked teeth, and you could have told him the minute you laid eyes on him his wife's cheating, and you don't blame her.