I first met James Bond on a flight from Trinidad to Miami in 2007. He was flying economy because, as he would later explain, he was undercover. I didn’t recognize him at first since he had changed so many times over the years but what eventually gave him away was the use of his precise British accent to pick up the flight attendant and the manila folder on his lap marked”Double-Oh-Seven- Top Secret – For Your Eyes Only, Mr. Bond.” Naturally he denied he was 007 but I was persistent and he finally caved in. Caving in to a layman was not what one would have expected from the best and longest surviving Secret Agent the world had known. I felt he needed someone to talk too and I later realized that carrying the burden of secrecy year in, year out can crack even the oddest ball.
Bond was hesitant to talk about his job at first and explained that he was in Trinidad for a holiday but as he was about to lay down his head, M called with a new mission which had knocked the winds out his sails. He said he went from hero to zero in no time but I suspected he was the victim of great expectations. Bond had to get the first flight out of Trinidad and he never realized that there were so many. I said Trinidad was a place that people liked to leave but Bond failed to notice my attempted humor since, I assumed, he was distracted by his mission and windless sails.
I was eager to find out about the Secret Agent business since I often pretend I was a Secret Agent making calls from my shoe instead of my cell phone. Bond admitted the Secret Agent business was overrated and many of the secrets of the business could be found in any Robert Ludlum book or Google. I was more interested in the women aspect of the business and he said he it was the main reason he stayed for so long. Bond revealed he was writing a book he was going to either call Women I Bon(d)ed or Women in Bondage. I said the name didn’t matter once there were pictures and Bond agreed.
007 grew more talkative as the Martinis flowed. He talked about Odd Job, Goldfinger and our very own Mr. Big. He spoke fondly of Ursula Andress, Michelle Yeoh and Halle Berry in a bikini. Bond recommended BMW passionately but wondered if The Prime Minister will give Benz, Audi, Jaguar and Aston Martin a chance to bid. James was bitter when I asked about MI6 (Emm eye six) and said he was seriously thinking about leaving and joining the CIA now that Barack Obama was the President. Bond also complained about Tom Cruise, called him pretentious and short, and said there were very few people who understood what was impossible about Cruise’s missions. Bond thought people were mainly interested in the special effects and Tom’s sultry women. I said people were also saying that about Bond and he seemed quite surprised and drunk.
The Air Marshals had to restrain Bond and carry him off the plane when he started to let out top secret information and show passengers his gun. I felt sorry for the Secret Agent who had sacrificed so much of his life saving the world from misguided villains and Republicans but who had now become a little bananas. I realized that Bond’s main source of stress was that he had many women friends who looked so good that it was driving him insane trying to remember their names and tatoo locations. Luckily, before Bond was arrested I was able to get his little black book from his pocket, a book which promised to give me, the new 007, a Quantum of Solace.