From Walmart to office buildings to the airports, I can't say that the "security" makes me feel any safer. In a lot of cases, I actually believe that a life-size cardboard cut-out of Barney Fife would be just as effective.
While conducting some personal business recently, I had the pleasure of spending some quality time with some security (I use that term loosely) guards. The particular location doesn't really matter because, like I've said, I've seen the same type of behavior at many other places. So, here's how this latest one went down......
While waiting in the "security" area, there were a total of four "guards". My guess is that they had the collective IQ of a hard boiled egg. There were two women and two men. And the women were much more intimidating than the guys. Well, before long, one of the female guards starts lecturing the other guards about leaving their coats on the chairs. According to her, there's at least one guard who has a reputation of sitting on everyone's coat. She explains, this is very inconsiderate and it causes the coats to "smell like ass". She then segues into a rant about having to spend $20 at the dry cleaners to get the smell out. As she tells the story, you can see her getting increasingly upset. I guess if my coat smelled like ass, I'd be upset too....The whole time, I'm trying like hell not to laugh.....
The next thing I know, the woman turns her attention to me. She tells me I have to sign in. Then, she lays the sign-in sheet on the desk. There were chicken bones and spilled soda all over the desk.The place looked like a food fight had recently taken place. So, I picked up the sheet of paper (which now had a large grease stain) and signed it up against the wall.
I hand the paper back to the angry guard. She takes it from me without an acknowledgement. Not missing a beat, she starts going off about one of the other guards who always smells of alcohol. She tells the other guards, "And I ain't mentionin' no names, but you know who I'm talkin' about. You can smell it coming through his pores. And from the smell, I can tell you he ain't drinkin' no Dom Perignon."
During the whole story, she's pointing her finger and bobbing her head like she's giving a sermon at Sunday church. I was waiting for the other guards to answer back with Amen or Hallelujah.
For these people to be in charge of security, they seem to be sharing way too much information with me. They continue to carry on in front of me like they're at Friday night Happy Hour.
Soon, another guy dressed in a guard uniform comes in. From what I picked up, this guy didn't work for this particular "security" firm, but he was interested in joining the disciplined force. I gathered that he was a friend or a relative of the angry guard. She makes a phone call to one of her superiors and puts in a good word for him. After she hangs up, she tells him that she has set up an interview for him. Then she gives him some profanity-laced advice on how to behave at the interview. She tells him that "he needs to get his shit together". Too bad the Ravens didn't have this woman in the locker room last week. With a pep talk like this, the Patriots would have been toast!
The other female guard resembles Aretha Franklin. Don't get me wrong, Aretha is great. But I don't think anyone's going to confuse her with a member of the A-Team. Anyway, I nearly get wedged in the doorway as the Queen of Soul attempts to squeeze by me. Couldn't she have just asked me to move? I can't help but wonder if she happens to be the infamous "coat-sitting" person.
Soon, one of the male guards starts to complain about an upset stomach. He says that the burrito he had for lunch is coming back to haunt him. He mentions something about "a dog scratching at the back door." I'm almost afraid to imagine what it means. But I assume that his sudden illness is nothing more than a ploy to go home early and play some X-Box.
I notice that they all refer to each other as Colonel and Sergeant as if they're members of Delta Force. They wear badges, but I'm thinking that they might be made of plastic. It's comforting to see that they do not have guns. I know what you're thinking. If they don't have guns, how much security can they really provide? Giving a gun to one of these folks would be like giving a salt shaker to a slug. It just wouldn't end well...
At long last, my contact comes down and finally rescues me. I almost wanted to hang around a little longer, just to see what the guard crew might do or say next. I couldn't help but think that they would be a great inspiration for a new sit-com. They might not make you feel very secure, but they will definitely make you feel amused...
Actually, it's kind of scary.........
kw
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