The Other Sort of Security Guard
The Other Sort of Security Guard8 mins 183 8 mins 183
My name is Vincent, nickname Vinny, Weldon. After two decades of being a drunkard busy with ruining my family and destroying any chance for a career in mainstream society, I finally realized that vagrancy is not paradise. So, I had to find a better way for myself. Letters of job applications and job interviews followed. Along with an expected degree of we call you back or no reply ever arriving. Made me feel like summoning a shitstorm if honesty still matters.
Then, I finally got a reply. An invitation by a minor security company instead of an office clerk or parking house porter. As noted, I could not expect the big pay, as dropping out of college and decades as a drifter and vagrant spoiled that. But, the proverbial demon drink no longer had its claws in my guts, as I fiercely opposed the convenience of burdening my surroundings with my irresponsible way of life again. I had my wake up.
Fifty years of age, not in good shape, but solemn about not spoiling a job interview, I made my way into an industrial part of the city. The address was memorized, and not completely dumb, I found the office building quickly. It was one of those component buildings, made from composite parts, to build and rebuild quickly. During my lifetime, I had seen many of those on trucks, ships, or even parts delivered by helicopters.
The building was white with the aluminum silver building the frames. Up high, in a shiny yet mild orange, was written Ermitage Security. Nothing spectacular, but solid enough for me. When I walked towards the building, a woman in office clothing scrambled from her seat, which the larger office windows allowed me to see clearly. She reminded me of a certain naughty woman in a different sort of movie when her makeup and her clothing style were measured.
Oh, wonderful! This must be Mister Vincent Weldon arriving in good time; Said the woman.
A good day to you, Misses? I asked.
Nelly Winthrop, it is a pleasure to meet you. Spoke the woman.
Before I had to say more, she continued:
Mister Weldon, follow me to my desk, please. Before the can start we would prefer to have you check that your data was properly accessed and saved. You know, these days computers can be tricky, due to all the spam filters and advertising blockers.
We did, as she had proposed. Needless to mention, there were no mistakes in spelling my name, nor in my other data. Most office workers become very good at handling such tasks. And, I also knew that a lot of corporations have excelling employees assigned to every task, therefore the woman could be a secretary, or a security guard with extra office training, or even a sales expert or manager happily working any task. From menial to crucial.
Her enthusiasm was infecting, as that saying goes. She enjoyed her job so much that one simply felt joy trying to also be useful and busy.
Mister Weldon, our company has to comply with national law and country laws in several instances. You will certainly get your coaching on topics later. But, for now, I need you to contemplate one decision. Ermitage Security has contractual partners handling our on-the-job catering. To keep it short, because of being forbidden to pay our employees extra on such expenses as coffee, guarana tea, or pizza delivery, we at Ermitage Security have come up with a solution to cover the expenses instead of unloading them unto our personnel.
You can freely choose to provide your food and drink, but we cannot recompense you for any of that by law. Alternately, we offer you to cover those needs, all at company expense, but for doing that we would need you to give a blood sample to our doctor. Ermitage Security is law-bound to ensure that no employee is severely allergic to what we offer. No data will be stored, once the doctor can verify you are not at risk. Also, you could let your doctor do the test, and deliver his verification to us later.
Not seeing, why any doctor should be more loyal to me, or more competent, than the company doctor, I took the easy road. I showed trust in Ermitage Security.
I knew you would! Stated Nelly Winthrop. With those words, she drew a corporate card reminding of a debit card. Next, she handed it to me and accompanied me to the seminar room, where the next phase of the job interview would continue.
I was in by choice. Hours of listening to introductions, and even the weeks of testing and training, did not make me give up. At my age, I could not go armed security guard, but that didn't mean I would be unappreciative of a company investing in us. In truth, I was too old for some of it, but it was a pleasure to partake.
While I knew that the younger ones would have a more lucrative starter option with Ermitage Security, I still found it nice. Other companies made you tag along with one guard already employed, and that was all the training and coaching you ever got. We learned what laws were behind which decision, we got practice walks and coaching on observation, we were encouraged to do sports, we even got special training for not endangering the company or clients by human needs and the inevitable little corruption, which being human cannot get rid of.
In the office and the training facilities, we often met the other teams, those who were trained with handguns and those, who already had qualified to patrol with dogs. Sneering and arrogance were rare, and more than once I saw other people's eyes light up when they recognized the logo of Ermitage Security on my uniform. So, while far from flawless, we were united by our cause, making money by working for Ermitage.
After four weeks on my job, following the training and coaching, I managed to handle an unexpected situation involving our partner, Dunwich Deliveries. Two days later I was informed that our contractual partners had thanked the office for my assistance and that they advocated giving extended office training to me. What seemed like nothing but a van driver's embarrassment that first night, would prove itself my first promotion.
I qualified easily. As the recent weeks had helped me reduce my overweight, and my enthusiasm was unshaken. It wasn't the big thing. I merely transformed from nothing but foot patrol outside of warehouse and parking lots to office surveillance on the same warehouse and parking lot jobs. As noted, I was too old and too downtrodden to receive handgun training.
The new job included watching monitors in a small office and only occasionally doing patrol walks. Still, those remained mandatory, as Ermitage had a policy we all knew. We had planned patrols and random patrols. We also had training drills to support fellow patrol guards, if they ran into trouble. The company practiced solidarity beats selfishness, and most of us enjoyed doing likewise.
As with most jobs, a certain disillusionment tends to set in, once one is on the job for a while. I also had my share. Leroy, one of the workmates I knew from day one, lost his discipline and crossed a red line. He opened and entered aka burglarized a warehouse building we were hired to only guard on the outside. Deviance to law and contracts was not OK.
Of course, he had come up with a knocker tale of screams, scary darkness, and he even tried to deliver some Satanism brain guano about some cult-like activity in that warehouse. In truth, he was a nosy job abuser type of criminal, and his selfish zeal had made the entire company look bad. I felt so betrayed.
Half-naked teenagers. Wild claims of human trafficking and forced prostitution. Even rape-cults. And, the truth? Crappy excuses to cross security perimeters and do drugs! There is an entire industry money-milking worried parents. Signs of the Times, not in any form a crime I ever had a part in.
Envy. With my smoking bad habit remaining, even without any faltering back into alcoholism, the company once more helped me best they could. Marsh Cigarillos imported from Portsmouth, England, as the older factory in Innsmouth, Massachusetts, USA, was already undone by those erratic claims of foul crime and homicidal fish folks. I went from two packages of regular cigarettes down to only half a package of cigarillos per day. A lot less poison.
Human Sacrifices. I am a patrol guard with only a safety flashlight, which combines flashlight and baton. I do not even know, what kinda helicopter could carry one of those sacrificial altars. Or, why people do remember those remnants of folklore on Aztec and Inka doing such sacrifices in South America, centuries ago!
A simple life must not be a bad life. And, of course, there will be wild tales about that as well. Still, I had to work for six months before I got a chance to get dog training. My dog is a partner, risking life and limb for the same duty every single work shift. How dare those journalists to babble about sectarian cybernetics and alien technology. It is racism behind their overpaid charades. Seriously, once the Stars are in the proper constellation, my dutiful dog companion will certainly come back to work. The Symbiont does not even cause any mutation, and they have semi-ethereal tendrils, not physical tentacles, anyway!
Found footage film crews and paranormal researchers went missing. Yes, a win-win! Our suburban and rural folks did not fall for their fraud schemes and scam attacks. That is it. Those criminal charmers tried to go for the gullible, and sometimes the people get rid of them by burying them behind grandpa's old barn, or wherever else. Again, Ermitage Security having nothing to do with it.
See? It is just life, as usual. Job worries, politics, religious crazes, and media disinformation. Cannot even remember, how many orgies those nosy weirdos spoiled for me, or how often those pests and trespassers purposely violated security perimeters, when we had the chosen few moments of watching the wonderful nightly sky in a mixture of longing and hope, which our critics dare call unspeakable Evil.
Next shift it will be just like that again, no matter, how hard we work, someone always will think us the easy scapegoat for whatever craze took hold of them. Toxic stress on modern jobs.