Wednesday, June 1, 2011

Things That Bother Me #547


I work in the US Bank Building. It strikes me as a fairly non-threatening commercial building, however, each day I attempt to enter this Goliath, I am put through aggressive security procedures. It strikes me as fairly unreasonable to have to scan my badge literally every 5 feet. Recently I forgot my badge at home (consider it the downfall of switching purses which I will never do again). The members of the security team in my building, treated me like a terrorist that day. Somehow, they managed to conveniently forget that they see me EVERY DAY. I had to do everything short of giving blood, merely to attend a job that I don’t like. It was oppressing.

And let me just tell you, when I say I see these tyrants EVERY DAY, I mean it. Believe me, I would love to move through my day without 50 strangers greeting me repeatedly throughout the process. The worst part here is that I smoke, so I’m apt to be walking in and out of this death spiral several times each day. Let’s face it, being a security guard has got to be the most boring job in America. Your job is to stand there like an asshole while the rest of us ignore you. I recognize that there are people out there who want to befriend these security people, I am not one of them. I like to pretend they’re statues. It’s fairly hard to do this when they keep talking to me! What’s more, they make outlandish assumptions about where I may be heading which makes it increasingly awkward when I come back 3 minutes later. Also, I’ve worked here for 2 years and you’d think these imbeciles could figure out that I’m in and out a lot, kind of like The Terminator. OH MY GOD I NAILED IT!

Sorry, moving on. Let me give you an example. I typically go for a cig at 4:30pm. I leave work at 5:30pm. Yesterday, I walked downstairs and some know-it-all security man said this to me, “Have a great night!” You can imagine the pain that I felt, knowing that I had another hour to complete at my wretched day job before I could be released into the wild. He then added insult to injury, after I scowled at him, by saying, “Smile!” If you want to be murdered by me, you should ask me to smile. If you want to be murdered by me and shipped to your parents, you should tell me that smoking is bad for me. Needless to say, that particular security guard is dead.

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