I have a new job. Armed security. Basically I've gone back to my roots.
I left my last job (I transferred from security to another department) as my boss and I had what I call cultural differences - his attitude is that American workers are lazy unless ridden herd on - and after dealing with what I call his pissing me off constantly (I did what he told me to, then he would ask why I did it). I quit with no notice. Not my usual style, but hey I would go home at the end of my day thinking about Claymore Mines and where I could hide what was left of him. Not a good thing on my part.
So with Allison's go ahead I quit. We spent the money on my commisioning classes (so that I could do armed security) and actually found a job all in about 4 months.
My new job is in Mesquite, TX and I work at an apartment complex that deals mainly with section 8 housing. It's an interesting place and the people definately keep me amused and on my toes.
We have the local drug dealer who used to like hanging on the corner - he's not there much anymore, seems that he's alergic to being arrested every other week. He's also not hanging out with the apartment on the dark back end of the complex since the management put lights on the porches. He doesn't like the exposure. I'm told teenages used to like coming through to cause trouble, break windows on cars, buy drugs and scare people. When I started 3 weeks ago there were loads of these 'kids' cutting through. Not so much any more.
My first few days/nights I was on the receiving end of the usal stares and standoffish curiosity. I let it lay, let them get used to seeing me and definately let them see me patroling, writing things down in my little book of everything and eyeballing the corners where the bad guys like to hang out. One of my first nights three guys were hanging out in the playground section thought they were going to try to initmidate me "what you staring at?" over and over again. I just grinned at them and continued staring. They left very soon after that.
Now three weeks in I get waves from most of the residents, I'm called Rose by most of the grandmothers who live there...I had one grandma brace her visiting 'thug' looking grandson for giving me the evil eyeball (he's actually a very intelligent kid who really needs to get a better class of friends), one of the ladies who lives here calls out a 'Hi, Rose' when she drives by.
How'd this happen? I talk to the people I see, I explain who I am and why I am there. You'd be amazed at how many times I hear 'aren't you scared?', I answer honestly - sometimes yes, sometimes no - and seeing the look in their eyes when I say 'I'm here to protect you and the complex'. One man asked me why. My answer was honest 'because you deserve it'.
See, I don't care that they are section 8. I know from talking to them that most would love to be elsewhere. One lady after a year and a half of searching for a good job, just finished her training to drive the handibus for the rapid transit system. Three weeks ago I watched her walk to and from wherever she was going and she had that defeated stance, two nights ago I watched her walk with her head held high. I took a report from a woman whose husband died less than a year ago and now she's here. She works 10 hours a day then comes home to her two children and takes care of them. She's tired most of the time. I also don't buy into the scarey stories and stereotypes you hear about the people in section 8 housing. Not all of them are scamimg the system, drug dealers or takers (yes I know they're out there, and yes I've eyeballed a few of them here) and not all of them are lazy. I have one apartment shared by four men from a Latin American country, which one I haven't figured out yet, who get up at 4 am, are out the door by 445 with all their construction gear (right now they work road projects) and are gone by 5. They live here because they send their money home for their families. I laughed when they all showed me their green cards. I told them I was not ICE.
There's a corner store just around the fence and I watch the kids walk to and from the store even when the parents walk with them. That's just part of who I am. I also know from talking to other residents that sometimes the bad guys like to mess with the residents and follow them back on to the apartment property (I guess even bad guys need a hobby). I've had parents thank me on the Sunday's and over nights they've seen me do this.
When I work somewhere as a security officer the property becomes Mine and the people there become Mine. What can I say? I'm selfish that way.
It hasn't all been serious. I have one lady who loves the Dallas Cowboys and Sunday's with her are fun depending on what the boys are doing or not doing. I know it's bad when she brings two beers back from the store. I've had little kids ask me to play tag and are disappointed when I've been busy (not sure how my boss would react seeing me be 'it'), and then there are the critters. My first night scare was the opossum who scared the bejaysus outta me. First off I didn't know we had them around here and second who the hell knew they hiss. I knew they climbed trees. But hissing? When it's dark out, you're patrolling and a hiss comes down at you, you'd have jumped up two feet and back three just like I did. I've since been told that after the hissing comes the attacking. I'll keep that in mind.
The second was the stray cat in the dumpster. Let's just say my asp baton was suddenly extended and the cat ran away. I had to make sure I hadn't wet myself. Hey I can laugh at myself.
Most of the kids at this complex are pretty young and there are a few teenagers. The teenagers at first had to do the eyeballing and chest swelling, now not so much. I guess hearing me laugh kinda took out the ego. The younger kids are usually polite even when parents aren't around. The teenagers are okay one on one. Since I work on Holloween I'll be taking candy with me and carrying it around in my cargo pockets (my uniform pants are ripstop bdu's, I love the cargo pockets) so that I can hand it out when I see the kids. I've told a few parents this and they were kind of surprised. I did not tell them that I'll also be eating the candy.
I've made more money at other jobs in my life, but I like the feeling I get doing what I'm doing now. I go home to Allison (I had to promise to wear a ballistic vest and yes I have a good one) and tell her my work stories (even the ones where I look like an idiot) with a smile on my face. With some luck I'll never think Claymore Mine and my boss again in the same sentence.
My new boss is a Military Police officer when he's not the Security Manager. We seem to get along and I get the idea that he likes my productivity. My co-worker (he works the nights I don't) is retired Air Force and has a fantastic sense of humor.
All in all, things are good. And yes I've warned my boss that if the opossum attacks I will be using my sidearm.
I left my last job (I transferred from security to another department) as my boss and I had what I call cultural differences - his attitude is that American workers are lazy unless ridden herd on - and after dealing with what I call his pissing me off constantly (I did what he told me to, then he would ask why I did it). I quit with no notice. Not my usual style, but hey I would go home at the end of my day thinking about Claymore Mines and where I could hide what was left of him. Not a good thing on my part.
So with Allison's go ahead I quit. We spent the money on my commisioning classes (so that I could do armed security) and actually found a job all in about 4 months.
My new job is in Mesquite, TX and I work at an apartment complex that deals mainly with section 8 housing. It's an interesting place and the people definately keep me amused and on my toes.
We have the local drug dealer who used to like hanging on the corner - he's not there much anymore, seems that he's alergic to being arrested every other week. He's also not hanging out with the apartment on the dark back end of the complex since the management put lights on the porches. He doesn't like the exposure. I'm told teenages used to like coming through to cause trouble, break windows on cars, buy drugs and scare people. When I started 3 weeks ago there were loads of these 'kids' cutting through. Not so much any more.
My first few days/nights I was on the receiving end of the usal stares and standoffish curiosity. I let it lay, let them get used to seeing me and definately let them see me patroling, writing things down in my little book of everything and eyeballing the corners where the bad guys like to hang out. One of my first nights three guys were hanging out in the playground section thought they were going to try to initmidate me "what you staring at?" over and over again. I just grinned at them and continued staring. They left very soon after that.
Now three weeks in I get waves from most of the residents, I'm called Rose by most of the grandmothers who live there...I had one grandma brace her visiting 'thug' looking grandson for giving me the evil eyeball (he's actually a very intelligent kid who really needs to get a better class of friends), one of the ladies who lives here calls out a 'Hi, Rose' when she drives by.
How'd this happen? I talk to the people I see, I explain who I am and why I am there. You'd be amazed at how many times I hear 'aren't you scared?', I answer honestly - sometimes yes, sometimes no - and seeing the look in their eyes when I say 'I'm here to protect you and the complex'. One man asked me why. My answer was honest 'because you deserve it'.
See, I don't care that they are section 8. I know from talking to them that most would love to be elsewhere. One lady after a year and a half of searching for a good job, just finished her training to drive the handibus for the rapid transit system. Three weeks ago I watched her walk to and from wherever she was going and she had that defeated stance, two nights ago I watched her walk with her head held high. I took a report from a woman whose husband died less than a year ago and now she's here. She works 10 hours a day then comes home to her two children and takes care of them. She's tired most of the time. I also don't buy into the scarey stories and stereotypes you hear about the people in section 8 housing. Not all of them are scamimg the system, drug dealers or takers (yes I know they're out there, and yes I've eyeballed a few of them here) and not all of them are lazy. I have one apartment shared by four men from a Latin American country, which one I haven't figured out yet, who get up at 4 am, are out the door by 445 with all their construction gear (right now they work road projects) and are gone by 5. They live here because they send their money home for their families. I laughed when they all showed me their green cards. I told them I was not ICE.
There's a corner store just around the fence and I watch the kids walk to and from the store even when the parents walk with them. That's just part of who I am. I also know from talking to other residents that sometimes the bad guys like to mess with the residents and follow them back on to the apartment property (I guess even bad guys need a hobby). I've had parents thank me on the Sunday's and over nights they've seen me do this.
When I work somewhere as a security officer the property becomes Mine and the people there become Mine. What can I say? I'm selfish that way.
It hasn't all been serious. I have one lady who loves the Dallas Cowboys and Sunday's with her are fun depending on what the boys are doing or not doing. I know it's bad when she brings two beers back from the store. I've had little kids ask me to play tag and are disappointed when I've been busy (not sure how my boss would react seeing me be 'it'), and then there are the critters. My first night scare was the opossum who scared the bejaysus outta me. First off I didn't know we had them around here and second who the hell knew they hiss. I knew they climbed trees. But hissing? When it's dark out, you're patrolling and a hiss comes down at you, you'd have jumped up two feet and back three just like I did. I've since been told that after the hissing comes the attacking. I'll keep that in mind.
The second was the stray cat in the dumpster. Let's just say my asp baton was suddenly extended and the cat ran away. I had to make sure I hadn't wet myself. Hey I can laugh at myself.
Most of the kids at this complex are pretty young and there are a few teenagers. The teenagers at first had to do the eyeballing and chest swelling, now not so much. I guess hearing me laugh kinda took out the ego. The younger kids are usually polite even when parents aren't around. The teenagers are okay one on one. Since I work on Holloween I'll be taking candy with me and carrying it around in my cargo pockets (my uniform pants are ripstop bdu's, I love the cargo pockets) so that I can hand it out when I see the kids. I've told a few parents this and they were kind of surprised. I did not tell them that I'll also be eating the candy.
I've made more money at other jobs in my life, but I like the feeling I get doing what I'm doing now. I go home to Allison (I had to promise to wear a ballistic vest and yes I have a good one) and tell her my work stories (even the ones where I look like an idiot) with a smile on my face. With some luck I'll never think Claymore Mine and my boss again in the same sentence.
My new boss is a Military Police officer when he's not the Security Manager. We seem to get along and I get the idea that he likes my productivity. My co-worker (he works the nights I don't) is retired Air Force and has a fantastic sense of humor.
All in all, things are good. And yes I've warned my boss that if the opossum attacks I will be using my sidearm.
