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NEW AUTHORS SHOWCASE

 

15-10-08

12M

p6

Confessions of a Security Guard

by

Seth Collins

Lesson 1: Radio Training

Proper Radio Procedures

This lesson deals with how to use the security radio properly.

Most security radios are black and have a plastic whip-like antenna attached at the top. If the antenna is on the bottom of the radio, you are holding the radio upside down. This is a common mistake among security officers. If you can not rectify this situation, please consult (check with) the radio user’s guide.

The Volume Knob of Your Radio

There are usually two or three knobs or buttons on the radio. One knob is to control the volume (to turn the radio sound higher or lower). If you turn the volume knob and you hear a “click,” that indicates that the radio is turned off. If you try and talk into the radio and don’t hear anything, the radio is most likely in the “off” position. “Off” means the radio is not “on.” If you are having trouble with this, please remove the handgun you are not allowed to carry and put a bullet in your head. (To do this, squeeze the gun’s trigger until you hear a “click.”)

 If you have figured out the volume knob, you are ready to use the radio. To turn your radio up, turn the knob clockwise. (Clockwise is the direction a second hand is moving on a watch or clock.) If you have the volume too loud, you could damage your eardrum. This is located inside your ear, and it is not actually a drum. If you have the volume too low, you will not be able to hear the person on the other end of your radio.

  If you turn the volume knob up too much and hear a clicking sound, it means you have broken the radio. At this point, you should stick a metal fork (not to be confused with a metal spoon) into an electrical outlet for being the moron that you are.

The Channel Knob of Your Radio

This part of the lesson might be a little difficult for some of you. Most security radios have a channel selector knob. The radio has about ten channels, ranging from one to ten. If you can count higher than ten, you are doing well so far. If you can’t count higher than ten, we suggest you go back and fuck your cousin some more, because that’s most likely how you were born (by two of your cousins fucking one another).

 Your assigned post will most likely be on channel five. Therefore, you must set your radio to channel five. To accomplish this task, turn your radio to channel five. Don’t get confused and change it to channel four or channel three or channel two. Five is the number directly after four. If you are having trouble with this, please consult (check with) the radio user’s guide.

Let’s say your partner is on channel five, and you (an idiot) are on channel two. How will you remedy this situation?

1. Will you turn your radio to channel three?

2. Will you use the telephone to call your partner’s radio?

3. Will you try and follow the string that is attached between you and your partner’s radio? (Hint: there is no string attached to either radios.)

4. Will you cry like a baby and quit your high-paying security job?

Talking on Your Radio

To talk on your radio, most radios have a “talk” button. (This is not a knob. It is a B-U-T-T-O-N.) To talk to your partner, place your lips close to the radio. Try not to slobber or drool on the radio itself. Most radios have the talk button on the side of the radio. This is not to be confused with the “top” or “bottom” of the radio. When you want to talk, press the talk button and speak into the radio. When you are done talking, remove your finger from the talk button. If you did this right, your partner should respond to what you just said. If he doesn’t respond, he is as dim-witted as you. When talking to your partner, you should be at least twenty or thirty feet away from him. If he is closer than ten feet from you, there is really no reason to use the radio.

Scenario: You are trying to reach your partner on the radio because a fire has just started in the security booth. (This is most likely because you forgot to put out your cigarette in the ashtray and tried instead to put it out on a pile of reports. You must never forget that paper is flammable.) Your partner is on the other side of the post. What will you do?

1      Will you let the security booth burn down because you can not operate the radio?

2. Will you jump in your car and try to find your partner?

3. Will you turn on your radio, call him, and tell him what happened?

4. Will you jump in your car and just drive home?

Changing the Battery on Your Radio

 To change the battery in your radio, you must first figure out if your radio is dead. When you try to call your partner on the radio, does he respond? If no, first check to see if your radio is in the on position. If it (your radio) is on, please check if it is on the correct channel. If it is but you still can’t hear anything, then it’s likely your radio is dead. Please don’t go and bury your radio. We don’t mean that your radio is dead as in no longer living. Either on the bottom or the back of your radio (if I’m going too fast, please read this slower) is where the battery is located. There should be a little switch-like device that will let the battery slide off the radio. This is where about 95% of security officers have real trouble with their radios. Under no circumstance should you use a hammer to remove the battery from your radio.

 Once you have successfully removed the battery, please attach a new battery to your radio. Place the old battery on or in the battery charger. The battery charger will “recharge” the dead battery, which is sort of like bringing the dead battery back to life. When placing the battery in the charger, please avoid standing in a puddle of water or a bathtub. I cannot stress this enough. We have lost innumerable security officers this way. (And by lost, I mean they are no longer among the living.)

After the fresh battery is in your radio, you may turn it on and select the correct channel. To do this, please reread this lesson.

Test for Radio Lesson

1 Your radio is primarily used for:

 

A. To keep in touch with other security officers

B. To let Batman and Superman know what is going on at your post

C. To look cool in front of chicks, impressing them by saying “10-4”

D. Trying to listen to FM radio stations

 

2. To talk on your radio, you must:

A. Tie a string to the radio, then tie another string to your partner’s radio

B. Push the talk button on the radio, then talk into it

C. Disassemble the entire radio and try to find the talk button

D. Use the phone instead because you can’t figure out how to talk into the radio, you sorry excuse for a human being

 

3. To change the batteries on your radio, you should:

A. Take off the battery cover, and place new batteries in the radio

B. Just throw the radio away and get a new one from your supervisor

C. The batteries can only be changed if the batteries want to change

D. Take the radio to Radio Shack and have them change the batteries for you

 

4. If someone calls you on your radio, you should:

A. Be alarmed because your radio is possessed, and the devil is coming after you

B. Take your finger out of your ass and reply to the call (the call on your radio)

C. Respond by saying, “Who the fuck is this, and what do you want?”

D. Push the talk button and answer the person who is calling you

 

5. If your radio is on channel five and needs to be on channel ten, you should:

A. Call your supervisor and ask if you can go home

B. Not touch the radio, because if you turn the knob, it might explode

C. Turn the channel knob to channel ten

D. Set the radio to channel eleven, because channel eleven is really cool“I busted this guy once for shoplifting, so I broke his arm. I never knew a nine year old boy could scream like that”

The Food Processing Plant—The Office Party (1982)
I’d been working at the food processing plant for about three months, and I figured it was about time for a party. It was the swing shift (4 pm to midnight). My fellow guards showed up about 7 pm and were ready to party. Ike, Timmy, Moe, and Colleen all showed up at once. Ike brought the herbs, Timmy and Moe brought the beer, and Colleen brought herself.
 But before the party got underway, I had to make my appointed rounds. The food processing plant was a huge plant that processed and produced salad dressings and different kinds of cheeses. My job was to make sure that the plant was free of trespassers and that the facilities didn’t burn down. After that was completed, I returned to the main office for our little “get together.”
The front office was my sanctuary. The decor of the place was early `70s blah. Sixty-pound typewriters were located throughout the office, and there was not a computer in sight. There were also big, tan metal desks, ugly green waiting room chairs, and a half-dead plant in the waiting area.
 When I returned, the party had started, and so had the beer drinking. Ike was the first person I saw. He was eighteen years old with long, dirty blonde hair, and he could smoke more weed than Tommy Chong himself. You could just barely detect his Texas accent. He brought the rum and soda.

 We used the Accounts Payable desk as our official mixing table. Moe supplied the beer. Wholly different from Ike, Moe looked like an early version of Jerry Seinfeld. He had a slight pompadour, and he was a skinny dude. He was the Barney Fife of our security company. He could lecture you on jaywalking for twenty minutes. Timmy was his brother. He didn’t work for the company, but he went everywhere Moe went.

 Last but not least was Colleen. At 5’9” and 160 pounds, she was a big girl, although she wasn’t “fat.” She had long, brown frizzy hair, big marvelous blue eyes, and a set of tits that could poke your eyes out. (I’m talking at least 36 DD.)
 “If you want to smoke that pipe, take it outside, dude!” I said to Ike. (Ike and I were the only pot smokers in the group). Ike and I snuck outside and promptly started this party out right. Within ten minutes of burning our lungs out, I realized I was getting paid $5.10 an hour for sitting on my ass and getting stoned out of my petite mind. “Is this a great country or what!?” I thought.

 We were so stoned that our asses would have been hauled off to jail if anyone had showed up. To make it worse, after a few drinks, Timmy just couldn’t keep away from the display case that showed all the plant’s different products. He almost tripped and crashed right into the display case. He kept asking if I had the key, because he just had to try the new ranch dressing.
 As I made my way to Colleen, she’d just finished her third beer. I started talking to her about something inane, and the next thing I knew, we were on the floor going at each other. We were kissing like we were on our honeymoon. My hand was playing around in her “forbidden zone” for so long that it smelled like ranch dressing. But when I tried to get my hands on that perfect set of boobage, she said, “Oh no you don’t. Those are not for playing with!”

 “Oh, I see,” I said. “So it’s all right to amuse myself with your brown garden below, but I can’t play with the melons above? Whatever.”

 Meanwhile, back at the ranch (no pun intended) Ike was sitting in someone’s cubicle taking bong hits. And I said, “Hey! Save some of that for me, you selfish bastard!”
 By this time, it was close to 11 pm, and I realized I hadn’t done any rounds of the plant! “Oh, well,” I thought. “I’m too wasted anyway.” Then I remembered my relief would be there in thirty minutes!

 Moe drank the last of the beer, and it was time to clean up the office bar. Colleen and I cleaned up the best we could. Everyone left around 11:45 pm, and I thought it best to wait outside for my relief. After all, I didn’t want him to smell my “beer breath,” “rum breath,” or “weed breath.”

 I was relieved at 11:55 pm, and it marked the end of another successful shift!

“I refused entrance to this guy one night to an office building, and I called him a dickhead. Turned out he was the CEO of the company. That was it for me.”

Food Processing Plant—The Spy (1982)
 It was another wonderful swing shift at the food processing plant. It was about 10 pm, and I’d just taken some fat juicy hits from my pipe. Then I heard something rustling in the bushes outside the front office window. I was thinking, “Oh great. I just got stoned out of my mind, and now I have to deal with someone or something outside in the bushes!”

 At first, I peered out the window and saw nothing. So I went outside and snooped around. There was nothing there. I thought it was just my imagination getting the better of me.
 I went back inside and continued to read my Heavy Metal Magazine. About twenty minutes later, I heard the rustling again. This time, I turned off all the lights in the office and pretended I was a Navy Seal sneaking into an enemy compound. I cautiously looked out each window. I was trying to locate my enemy, but it was no use.

 I spied out the last window, and lo and behold, guess who I saw! It was my boss, the owner of the security company. The little sneaking bastard was named Ned Shuck. This was a guy who made his security officers wear these stupid gold and black helmets on each site. They were just like the helmets you’d see a motorcycle cop wearing! He thought it would make the officers more distinguished. Having said that, you know he was a geek to the fullest extent.

 He was the biggest nerd since Bill Gates. Ned was about 5’6” and 125 pounds of moron. He had short, black, silly curly hair and the nose of a mango. Ned ran his security company out of a converted garage at his parent’s house. He was a latent homosexual, but he would never admit it. He was always trying to get me to watch porno movies.

When I went to his office once, I watched one porno with him. After about ten minutes, he tried to touch me. Now, I could have beaten the shit out of him, but I liked my job, and he posed no threat to me. But in today’s world, he could never get away with that shit.

 After I caught Ned, he came into the office. I almost kicked his ass right there.

“Why the fuck are you spying on me, you little bastard?” I said. In his annoying, frog-like voice, he tried to explain that he had to keep an eye on all his officers. He said he did it to everyone. It wasn’t just me. It was 10:30 pm, and Ned was spying on me through a window! I told him to get a life. I also informed him they were on sale at K-Mart.
 We got along well enough, but I didn’t want to end my shift talking to this dumb-fuck for the next forty minutes. So I told my little so-called boss that I had to make a round of the facilities. Then I shooed him off my site, as in “shoo, shoo little doggie!”
And he did.

“I worked this high school football game one night, and during halftime I decided to check the girls’ locker room. And lo and behold, there were twelve vaginas staring right at me! That was almost a lawsuit.”

Food Processing Plant—The Heist (1982)

 I was still working at the food processing plant when the shit went down. It was like apples falling from the tree: it spread to all of us. I was still working the swing shift, and my new midnight guy was Rick. Rick was fairly new to our little security family. In fact, I had only known him for three weeks.

 Word came down from the boss himself that everyone that worked at the food processing plant was “invited” downtown to take a lie detector test.  The reason was that Rick was caught at 3 am helping himself to free salad dressing and delicious cheese. It seemed Rick and his cohort had driven Rick’s van into the food processing plant loading area where they stocked his van with case after case of salad dressing and boxes of cheese.

 Therefore, all the security officers who worked for the food processing plant had to take a lie detector test. They wanted to find out if anyone else was involved in Rick’s little “get rich quick” adventure. I was a little scared because I had never taken a lie detector test, and I did swipe one little bottle of salad dressing in order to enhance the flavor of my take-to-work-shitty-ass bean burrito.

 So there I was sitting in this little room with all these wires hooked up to me, and the man on the other end of the wires is telling me, “Just relax. This won’t hurt a bit.”

When he asked me if I had ever taken anything from the plant, I told him I took one bottle of salad dressing, but I did not bring it home. I left it in the fridge in one of the break rooms.

I’m glad he didn’t ask these questions: Have you ever been drunk while on duty?  Have you ever smoked marijuana on duty? Have you ever had a party at the food processing plant? Have ever taken anything else from the site? ...