Every morning I pull into a very secure plot of land. There are almost ten foot fences surrounding the whole place. If the fences and electronic gates can’t keep freaks out then our photo / electronic ID cards should do the trick. There are video cameras at every door and in larger areas incase there is a riot or protest because our little lunch place runs out of cookies. 24/7 we have off duty cops and sheriff in our security booth at the front gates and inside patrolling the CCTV. Nothing bad ever happens here, it’s the dullest place on earth and we’ve got tons of security to, I guess, make sure it stays that way.
Still, every morning I pull in and wave a little to the guys at the gates, because they are kept open between 8:30 and 9:00am. Without fail there is one little pudgy guard who always watches me as I walk into the building. None of the other cops watch anyone or do much of anything else aside from wave or raise a cup of coffee or smoke to their mouth as people enter. I made it a point today to watch him with my peripheral and the guy followed me until I couldn’t see him anymore. I think I’ve seen him to this to others and it just bugs me. Why is the white Caddie with two Grateful Dead stickers the one to watch, I’d be a bit more concerned with the Scion flying a Black Beard flag from the antenna or maybe the guy with the Star Wars “My boss is a Galactic Overlord” sticker on his truck. I have music stickers on my car, I’m not flying and showing off a desire for pirating, anarchy or interstellar domination, leave me alone.
I think the guy watches me because I drive a piece of crap and someone has complained that I’m bringing the rest of the parking lot down. It’s some sort of subtle intimidation I’m convinced. Maybe it’s because I sometimes park right next to the cop cars and the collection of children’s books in the back seat bothers them because they are at their reading level and they’ve not “read that one”.
I think I should go to HR and tell them the security guards are making me uneasy, wearing street clothes with badges and guns just freaks me out so much that I can’t focus on my work, oh the pressure! Again it’s really just the one guy who I imagine feels like Chubby Harry and continues to wish someone would “make his day”. Have a donut, sit down, shut up and worry about bad guys, not people who are miserably going to work without the assistance of a firearm.