I am amazed at the “snappy take” to the 48th episode. I mean one would never expect a divorce to occur or a broken relationship for having a chick-scope & a Pilsner at the local pub.

Tiffany has shown in previous media that if a person is contacted in an Infidelity Investigation Service, that she doesn’t provoke the contact. It is up to that contacted person to behave in a controlled situation. Self control and ones own decision making comes into play here.

In having some involvement in the industry that Tiffany works in, one can understand what a client needs with Investigation Services and how providing such a service as Infidelity Investigation Services can resolve sensitive relationship matters involving emotional and financial decision making and helping people get on with their life’s peacefully in a positive direction.

PJL

I find myself straddling the line here. Tiffany saved it for me at the end there (a most sage inclusion on your part) only because of her copping to an altruistic desire to want to help humanity and how she “…loves helping people, and when it comes time for [her] to die, [she] would like to be known as a person who helped others.” Fair enough, I say. If you think you’re darning the gaping voids in the societal dreamcoat, then carry on hammering away, I say. I hasten to note that this seemingly noble “I just wanted to help” worldview has been expressed by a sordid handful of the planet’s more unsavoury characters as well, who, in their time, felt as though their actions were in dedicated service to humanity.

Having said that…

I had many problems with this podcast. Not because your guest isn’t an eloquent and knowledgeable presenter of her hobby; that she indeed is. I had problems with things like her description of merely “mirroring” her (mostly male) marks by refusing to “personally up the ante” by only “mimicking the various statements they make to her,” to wit:

Potentially male philandering mark: “Hey, you’re extraordinarily attractive, hot blonde girl with the baby blues. Can I buy you a Schlitz?”

Tiffany in Disguise as The Mendacious Dr. Popular: “Aye matey, you’re pretty hot thar’ yourself.”

Mark: “So, whaddya say, you want to go for a shag and a pizza?”

Dr. Popular: “Sure, I love pizza.”

Whereupon Dr. Popular, uh, Tiffany, applies the cuffs and reads the marks the Aussie equivalent of the Miranda Address.

You see what I’m building up to here, don’t you?

That whole episode she recounted reminded me of that key scene from The Untouchables where Sean Connery’s character tells Kevin Costner’s Elliott Ness (say this in your best Connery-esque), “They bring out a knife…you bring out a gun.”

Bad robot, Tiffany! Very bad. You need to oil your circuits!

I realize this is her job, her living, her passion, and something which quenches her inner-Gestapo need to tail people and make horndog men feel like dogmeat (hopefully sans trenchcoat and matching jackboots). I also realize this satisfies her inexplicable magnetism for life’s “left-of-centre seedy side,” as she readily admits, but the whole thing doesn’t sit with me well.

Why?

Tiffany’s investigative duties only serve to reinforce what I would consider to be society’s obsession — yes, inflexible, blind, blinkers over Silver’s (as in “hi-ho”) eyes obsession — with the concept of the end-all-be-all Anglo-Saxon-manipulated concept of the monogamous conjugal life partner.

I’m not questioning commitments. I prostrate myself fulsomely down to the men and women who choose to unnecessarily entangle themselves in these mostly financial thickets containing ceaseless marital guano.

I am onside with the XX Chromosomal Units who hear things like this from their husbands, men who look at their paht-ners (say this with an Aussie accent) dead in the peepers and boldly declare: “Shnookems, I promise you’re the only one for me and from here on in, it’s just you and me in the bedroom/table/whirlpool when it comes to any and all horizontal/vertical/diagonal lambada action.” If you admit that, then you damn well keep your word otherwise you’re nothing more than a dastardly dust bunny, and you deserve nothing more than to be swept up into a plastic receptacle and mixed with mouthwash and flushed down the toilet like a do-rag. Men, I’m talkin’ to you!

But w-w-w-wait a second, Frankie, what if this *isn’t* the deal? What if I didn’t sign up for the marital guano all-inclusive package deal and you hire Tiffany and her talented attack beagles to dog me when I’m at the pub having a pilsner and a chick-scope?!

What if I’m dating someone, or sport dorking someone, or just living together with someone in some expensive flat and not on some contrived, “marital” leash and you get Tiffany and her dingbats to put a dragnet or an APB on me and take KGB notes — for pay, no less?! What’s gives? What did I do wrong there?

I’m convinced Tiffany believes she’s doing society a good turn by helping mostly women and men get the straight dope on their partners’ extra-curricular activities, but it’s crass and in many ways only perpetuates what I consider to be a broken marital system which is all a bunch of Mickey Mouse brainwashing.

I’ve got heaps more to say, but I think I’ve wreaked enough collateral damage already.

By the way, it was an excellent podcast.