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My very first Security Job
By Michael A. Oden
Thursday, April 17, 2008
Not rated by the Author.
Protecting junk and getting chased by dogs. All in a nights work.
My first guard job, when I came out of the Corps, didn’t last long. I was hired to work for a company in LA, and they sent me to guard a junk yard.
I was just out of the Corps, so, I was still a little bit eaten up. Regardless of the uniform I was wearing, I had to be all spit and polished. I arrived at the junk yard and reported to the owner. Man, was he an asshole. But, he was a former Marine, like me, and a Viet Nam vet to boot.
He took me on a quick tour of the compound and made sure that I paid special attention to his prized possessions. He had a small area that had nothing but old beat up Cadillac’s; there must have been thirty of them. He told me that he had people coming at night, stripping those Caddies, and my job was to make sure it didn’t happen again.
When everyone was gone from the lot and the night got late, it was a good opportunity to evaluate my situation. A month ago, I was a Marine Corps sniper; now, I was sitting in the middle of a junkyard working as a security guard. Damn!
I was depressed; here I was sitting in my car, and, hell, it looked right at home in this salvage yard. I had a .38 revolver but only three rounds of ammo. The radio the company issued me might or might not work in the event of an emergency. My flashlight stopped working shortly after I left home!
Somewhere in the middle of feeling sorry for myself, I fucking fall asleep. Can you believe it, falling asleep, my first night on the job? When I woke up, I heard the owner screaming something about those fucking Caddies! Hell, I knew I was fired, so I started my rusted out car and went home.
Later that day, while I was going through the want ads again, the guard company called me and said that the owner wasn’t as mad as I thought and they wanted me to go back to the junkyard again.
Shit, the classified section of the newspaper didn’t have a whole lot, so I figured I’d better do a good job this time or I might have to go work at McDonalds. When I arrived, the owner pretty much blew me off. Which was ok; I was lucky to be working.
This time, I stayed out of my car and made rounds of the compound like I was on patrol in the Corps. But by 1:00 am, I was tired. Then, I saw what appeared to be movement in the corner of my eye. Yeah, I thought I saw something; it was the shadows of three guys as they were climbing under the fence. They hadn’t seen me, so, I moved into the shadows to get the jump on them. I got to within about twenty feet of them and with my trusty .38 drawn, I shouted “FREEZE!” They froze alright, but not the two pit bulls they had with them. Those two dogs chased my ass through the compound and I was screaming like a bitch. Finally, I jumped up on some crushed cars and the dogs couldn’t get to me.
I was on that stack of cars until daylight, but, I didn’t know if they’d left yet. The whole night, I was trying to make contact with the guard service on the radio they’d given me. Piece of shit didn’t work!
The owner walked through the lot and he was cussing about his fucking caddies being stripped and how pissed off he was. He didn’t know that I was above him on some cars. I jumped down right in front of him and scared the shit out of him. Somewhere, he’d picked up my .38 that I’d dropped when the dogs chased me. Before he could say anything, I grabbed it out of his hands and ran to my car. This time I didn’t care if they fired me or not because I’d already made up my mind to quit
Site: "Observe and Report", Behind the Scenes with Security.
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|Reviewed by John Domino
|I like your character.
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Visit my website - I write about prison ministry experiences.