Spy Museum

One of the great things about being around D.C. are all the free museums. No matter what your topic of interest, D.C. probably has a free museum for you. You want to know about space shuttles? We’ve got a museum. You want to know about 18th century European art? We’ve got a museum. Want to know about the plight of the homeless, and what you can do to help them? Well, there’s no museum for that, but…if you’ve ever wondered what it would be like to do pull-ups from a woolly mammoth tusk, guess what? We’ve got a museum.

One of the few museums which actually charges admission is the Spy Museum, a museum dedicated to the art of espionage. And I can tell you right now that the good people behind the Spy Museum are making a big, and perhaps deadly, mistake by doing so.

If somebody were so interested in spying that they’d actually go to a museum for it, don’t you think they’d be able to figure out a way to get in for free? You’re telling me that you expect a guy who owns infrared goggles, hidden cameras, wiretaps, and multiple sniper rifles won’t find his way around a $20 cover?

I’d hate to work there. Having to deal with a trained killer is tough under any circumstance, but I bet it’s a lot harder when you’re making him pay for something. That’s the main reason I never went through with my hot dog restaurant idea called The Hitman Hot Dog Stand. It must be brutal on the security there. Think about it: all day you’ve got men in trenchcoats and obvious fake moustaches trying to sneak past you, guys from the “phone company” trying to get inside, and tons of dudes in ski-masks sneaking in the vents bumping into each other. I’d be concerned with the safety of the guy working the ticket counter. He has spies and wanna-be spies coming up to him all day, looking at him weird when he tells them it’s not free. I actually did a little research into this subject, and I came up with the five top causes of death among Spy Museum box office attendants:

50% – Snapped neck
25% – Poison arrow to jugular
22% – Cyanide capsules slipped into Mountain Dew
3% – Fucked to death by a ninja

Let’s say that Jason Bourne decides to go see a a 1PM showing of Burn After Reading. He literally cannot remember the last time he went to a movie, so he is bowled over by a matinee ticket being $8.75. He can’t believe he’s out almost ten bucks; and that’s before popcorn. Do you think a projectionist or two is getting a limb detached? Yes you do. Retinas are being poked out before a spy is going to pay for anything. Same principle applies for James Bond trying to get a cup of coffee.

3.78?!?! For just a regular coffee? Okay…wow, you’re lucky I left my piece with Ms. Moneypenny, chief. Allright, well forget that then, just give me a medium. No, I don’t want a Grande, I said a medium. Okay, whatever you’re equivalent of medium is on your little menu, give it to me. No, I won’t say it. Will not say I want a grande. I’ll stand here all day. Okay, fine, call the cops.

What really sucks is that they can’t offer any kind of spy discount to spies. As soon as you admit to being a spy just to get the discount, you’re cover is blown. Your entire career is moot just so you could save 50% to look at a 9 that was built in the ’30’s.

Speaking of bad spy work, the whole point of being a spy is to have secrets, so the idea behind having exhibitions based on sensitive material is a flawed one. A spy’s existence, a spy’s livelihood, is all about reporting confidential information in a clandestine manner to a select group of superiors. That is the very definition of being a spy. Men dedicate their entire careers and lives to a cause without ever receiving a shred of acknowledgement or credit, all the while becoming virtuosos of their craft…..

….so here we have an entire building exposing what they discovered. No decent spy would let a curator get his hands on anything important, so I’m sorry if I don’t think it’s chock full of material culled from the masterminds of espionage. “On your left you’ll see a hotel bill from a real KGB agent. This document allowed the FBI to deduce that most Russians like grape soda and porn. Intel like this put the kibosh on the Cold War, people. Now allow me to direct you to our WWII exhibit, which features pictures of Hirohito taking his kids mini-golfing.”

They should change the name from The Spy Museum to The Shitty Spy Museum.


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