Can You Hear Me Now? Crap.

So I'm here like always, guarding this plant where numerous immigrants bustle around the sodering irons and mountains of boxes while making antennas for cell towers. Most of them bring radios or mp3 players to listen to while they are working. While others are so consumed with their surroundings that anything short of an elephant fart wouldn't distract them.

In between patrol rounds, I sit in the main lobby of the building at the switchboard. Located there is this recently super-firewalled computer and a monsterous Meridian phone console that would rival any 100 channel switchboard used in a radio booth.

Yesterday the sceen on my cell phone broke so tonight I was planning to call Cingular customer service to request a new phone and inform them of the logistics. Easy enough you say...yea, that's what I though too.

So, being unable to use my cell phone to make the call; I decided to place the call from the switchboard here at the desk. Keep in mind, I am very capable of using the most complicated phone systems. I used to be Director of Communications for a previous company where I installed digital and voice recognition phone systems companywide.

I dialed the toll free number, chose English as customary these days, and then was prompted to enter my cell number for verification, so I began to enter my cell number. The first two digits of my phone number are 6 7, which apparently is the two-digit code in this phone system for switching from the headset to paging someone over the intercom throughout the entire building. Unaware of what I just did, I continued to enter my phone number then press #. In the background I could here someone faintly over the intercom system here in the building. People use the PA here quite often, so I paid it no mind and continued my call.

After I entered my entire number then waited for almost 30 seconds, I began to get frustrated by how long this was taking. So, as any other bored guard would do, I started to hum a song and eventually began to sing the words out loud. My song of choice tonight was.....you guessed it, "Rush Rush with the Yeyo" by Blondie from the Scarface soundtrack. Thanks to my buddy, that song has been in my head for like two days. So, I'm singing along, waiting for customer service to come on, and all the while I am hearing this faint noise in the background over the PA intercom. But, as expected, I did not put 2 + 2 together and just went on with my bold Deborah Harry impersonation.

After an few moments with no one answering my call, I started to add new lyrics to the song that were fitting to my state of mind. Like: Rush Rush with my mother fucken yeyo, cause these immigrants are really fucken gayo". You know, shit like that. Now having completed my new version of Rush Rush, I decided to start pressing buttons on the phone in order to force something to happen. Pulling the headset away from my ear, I began to push random numbers on the console. Now, like an idiot, I clearly heard the numbers being dialed over the intercom. So, I paused and thought, "no fucking way this is happening". So I trepidatiously pressed another button to prove myself right. Whooops, oh shit!

I immediately hit the 'RLS' button to hang up. It didn't work. Then over the intercom I heard an operator on the other end of the line at Cingular speaking menu directions.....in Spanish! Now the shit was extremely loud and to the point of distracting to the people on the floor. Frantically hitting every button for a few seconds, the friggen reciever would not cut off and the Spanish lady was still reciting the entire menu in her Latin tongue.

What to do.....what to do?

Well no one had walked up here yet to ask what was going on....so I decided to walk back there and ask for myself. I went straight up to the supervisor, Ulyses, and said, "Who in the hell has the phone on intercom? You can hear it throughout the entire building." He said, "Yea, everyone back here can hear it too". I replied, "Well it sounds like the person might be Spanish or Mexican from the voice...I'll go find out and get them to shut it off, that's just not professional, dammit".

I walked back up here to the front and after five more minutes of banging on the console, I finally unplugged it in the back and the damn thing shut off. So, I walked in the back after I fixed the problem and told Ulyses that it was the Mexican cleaning girl and she has been told not to do it again.

Manual Exposure

On post here at my normal location and lately, I have become the focal point in a developing story of perversion, obesity, and outrage.

Over the past week or so, I have noticed a male employee here taking advantage of my vantage point throughout the building. For the sake of this story, we will call this man Jabba. When retelling the story, you can rename him Snufalufagus or even The Jolly Green Giant. To put it kindly, he's a bit rotund if not chafed completely on his inner thighs.

Incident #1
So, I was sitting there at the front desk around 8:00 on the night it all began. Minding my own business and exchanging well wishes with those who were departing for the evening. From the distant sound of the opening door off to my right, I knew someone was about to be turning the corner and walking my way; I remained seated and just waited for them to approach me so I could tell them "good night".

As I sensed this person getting closer to me, not only from the sound of his labored breathing but also from the kettle drum percussion his foot steps made while contacting the floor, I turned my head with a smile to greet him before wishing him well. Much to my dismay, I wasn't met with the same cordial greeting from him, actually it was ghastly absurd.

Still 10 feet away from me, I looked from his face downwards and noticed something askew. Not only was the button on his pants undone, but the zipper was fully unzipped. In a split second, I looked back up to his face trying not to show the shock and horror of what I was witnessing. I thought, "Does this guy know his pants are completely undone, thusly exposing the fire engine underwear he has on?", along with, "How in the hell is he keeping his pants from falling down around his ankles?".

So I glanced back down just to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. And oh yea, they were down, that friggen freak pot! Upon this subsequent glance, I answered my second question; his pants were not falling down because he had his belt buckled in spite of everything else. Basically the braided belt was grasping desperately onto his potruding robust belly, with all its might. The gap that the belt was spanning would have rivaled Evel Kneivel's Grand Canyon jump. And that gaping belly button...oh Lord! Somebody call a fricken cat over here.....there's a ball of yarn in there big enough to knit a comforter with.

Trying not to be obvious and still avoiding eye contact, I turned away and said "good night". Jabba slightly paused in front of me and in a quiet voice said, "Ok, Mr. Security Guard, have a great night here. I hope you take good care of our building".

Yea....he's been known to bite a few pillows while getting a Dirty Sanchez.

So Jabba just kept walking out the door as I sat there in shocked silence.

More to come........

Graveyard Shift at the Retirement Home

The Setting
Have I got a story for you guys. Let me just set the backdrop then I will fill in the rest later. I'm standing guard at a retirement home downtown off Juniper and 4th and there are tranvestite hookers involved along with a 4am newspaper delivery man.

Issue #1
Seeing a transvestite hooker getting oral sex from some dude while he is masturbating.......................has just topped my list of Ewwwwww moments.

Issue #2
So, I'm reading over the post orders here at the "Hooker Haven Retirement Home" and this is letter 'J' on the list: "If a resident dies contact Mr Mark XXX at home or cell phone (leave a message if he's not available)."

"Um, yea, ah, Mr XXX this is Officer Security with XXXXXXXXXXXX down here at the building. We just had one of the tennants keel over, die, and crap himself, just wondering if you could gimme a call back when you get a chance. Thanks."

Issue #3
Letter 'V' in the post orders states: "If a resident falls and can't get up call the fire dept."

Why call the fire dept? Shouldn't I just walk up there and pick'em up?

"Nope.....gotta call Rescue 911, sorry you'll just have to lay there while I laugh."

Anyone remember the number from that commercial for 'Life Line'?
I've fallen and I can't get up. I'm having chest pains.

Issue #4
Letter 'W' of the post orders states: "If prostitutes give you any trouble on 4th, call police."

"Yea, this is Officer Security down here at XXXXXXXXX Retirement home, are you guys taking any calls for prostitutes giving people trouble on 5th street? Nope. Ok thanks."

turns to John

"Sorry man, should've solicited one block over. Nothing they can do for ya."

Issue #5
Back to letter 'I' of the Bible of post orders: "If the main fire alarm goes off, go to the basement's boiler room and silence the alarm. If you have any questions, call Greg XXXXXX."

" Hey Mr XXXXXX, this is Officer Security down here with the old people, um, the fire alarm just went off, so I went down to the boiler room in the basement to shut it off. Should we let others know about it, cause it's so quiet around here now and I don't want to disturb the old people again?"

Issue #6
This is getting kinda creepy around here. I'm in an old building surrounded by hundreds of really old people. I have a switch board over my right shoulder to alarm me if someone dies in one of their rooms. I have to roam the halls on every floor to be sure that no one has stepped out of their room and died in the hallway or in the elevator. There are transvestite hookers getting head just outside of my window, and to top it all off.....

The same 1940's music is playing over and over again and I can't find the damn cutoff switch!

Am I an extra in the movie "Cocoon"?

Issue #7
So, while roaming just now, I wandered into 'the activities room'.

In the back corner, I noticed a couple of card tables with jigsaw puzzles on them. All of them were at least halfway completed, hell it must have taken these people a couple of weeks to get that far. So....... I glanced over each shoulder and..........

Oh yea, pulled all of them apart completely. I even put the pieces to one of the puzzles back in the box and set it back up on the bookshelf.

"Hey Martha! What the hell happened to the puzzle of my boat?"

Yea, I know........just for that I'm probably gonna have to wipe somebody's old ass before I leave......I know.

Issue #8
So, five minutes ago I get startled by this young afro-american man approaching my desk, smelling like a Hiawaiian Tropic Bottle. He said, "Hey, I just need to sign out, thanks". As he walked away, I noticed that his sweat pants were on inside-out and backwards. Nice ass too, kidding.

Then, just now, an older 'aa' woman comes off the elevator, walks by my desk and says, "Alrighty, have a blessed morning and a wonderful day young man". As she walked away smiling, the same oily lotion scent filled the room. She was slightly limping as well.

Sign Off
Ok, people are going to be coming into work here soon. Gotta sign off. Hoped you enjoyed this. Remind me never to work here again. I'm a little tired from this double shift. And the oldie music and people.

Attack of the Muslims

Night #1 - The Scare

So...here I am again...on post as a rent-a-cop and doing my patrol rounds. It is my job to ensure the security of the building as well as restrict any of the floor employees access into the front offices of the building. They can use the hallways to get to the restrooms, but they are not allowed into any of the offices or conference rooms.

As I am patrolling, I walk in and out of the offices to check for the random person on the phone in a restricted office...it happens. Then I walk into the main conference room, where all of the lights are off. It was totally silent upon entering this 50 x 20 room, so I just proceeded to walk further in and turn on the lights.

Oh my God we're all going to be killed! Am I wearing clean underwear...or any underwear for that matter?

As I turned on the lights in the totally silent and previously pitch black conference room, a massive chill went down my spine. I looked up to see a group of people, maybe 12-15, knelt down with their heads laying on the floor facing the same direction. Holy shit, it was a bunch of muslims praying in silence...in the dark.

Now, never having been exposed to such a sight; the first thought that entered my stereotypical American mind was, "We're about to get bombed!". "They are praying to Allah before they die!" Or so I thought. I stood there in silence for about 10 seconds with the lights on and they did not even stop to look up. This scared me even more. So, I carefully turned around, flipped the light switch to off, and exited the room.

With speed that would rival Carl Lewis' in the 100 meter dash, I quickly summoned the floor supervisor for some answers. "Um, Ulysses...I just walked in on a bunch of Muslims down on their knees praying in the main conference room!" "Yea they do that a couple of times a night, it's ok." "Damn, it scared the shit out of me...I thought we were about to get bombed or something. I mean after 9/11 and all, you never know what to expect. Alright then...but I almost had to go change into a clean pair of pants."

This all happened last night around 2:30am. So tonight around that time, I have a plan to get them back. When they walk into that quiet dark room, I am going to be laying there on the ground where they normally pray. When they kneel down, I am going to stand up and say, "Boo!". Let's see how they like it.

Night #2 - The Revenge

I already have it all set up. The lights are off and the doors are all closed. They usually go in to pray around 215-230. I have 911 on speed dial just in case I'm attacked.

Shhhhhhhhhh, I'm walking over to the room now. I'll post after the shit hits the fan. Instead of Boo! I might yell "Praise Allah!" or "Hey look, it's Osama bin Laden!" Ok...........here goes.......gimme a few minutes.

So I'm sitting there in a chair in complete silence in the dark. I see the group of 10-12 of them walk in quietly and disappear into the darkness around me. I waited until the last one closed the door, then...........

I hit the lights, and said in a loud but monotone voice, "Hi ya doing?" The last person to close the door was a young woman dressed head to toe in one of those cover-all scarves. Everyone looked up but she....she tried to step quickly back towards the door and tripped over her scarf. She lost her balance and her covered head banged into a picture on the wall that read, "America the Beautiful."

It was picture perfect. Laughing, while blowing snot out of my nose, I quickly walked back across the room and exited out through the door.

I'm still laughing. I'm still waiting to be shot out in the parking lot.

Russian Humor

So I'm back on the floor of the plant, doing another security round and this Russian guy, Ilia, starts poking fun at the fact that I look goofy in a security guard's uniform. Well, I do and that's just a fact when you're a chubby white guy, but he doesn't know who he's messing with.

So I just laughed and played it off. Within ten minutes, I convinced about 20 other employees, most of whom are from China, to walk up and ask Ilia if he had sat on a melted Snickers bar.

Basically after 5 minutes of Ilia turning around and looking at his ass, the entire floor of over 50 immigrants was roaring with laughter and pointing at him.

How goofy do I look now Ruskie?