Cajun property manager
So today as I went off shift, I packed up my stuff, left reception, dropped my paperwork off in HR, and headed for the elevator. And guess who came out of the washroom just in time to catch the elevator with me?
That property manager that keeps complaining about me. He met my eyes for a moment and made a little smile, but he immediately started looking a bit green.
So we got in the elevator and he keyed in his floor. I went to the same floor. ;)
He was distinctly uncomfortable. I've found that I appear to have the support of the client, so I'm not worried in the least anymore. On the other hand, he must have been thinking, would this low-paid security guy turn on him in the elevator and take out his neanderthal anger on his intellectual superior?
I did not.
But I let him sweat in my presence for a bit, then we got to our floor. He immediately went into the washroom. Wait, didn't he just come out of the washroom?
He must have swallowed something bitter. Poor lil fella.
On the way home from work there were three college students, to judge from their clothes and gear, talking about incredible wins and gambles they'd done in the casinos, and then they fell to talking about who they'd ripped wallets and money and stuff off of.
A lot of it sounded awfully improbable, but they'd pitched their voices to carry so I assume it was to impress each other and garner a reaction from the rest of us on the SkyTrain. Shrug.
Other Indian guy at work is getting stinkier. I mentioned before that his teeth were bothering him by being so full of holes that he's constantly sucking sharply at them in an attempt to dislodge whatever might be in there?
Well, the tooth powder that he uses (Indian guy can't believe that Other Indian guy uses that stuff. He says that in India, only poor people and old people that don't like change use powder. Paste is where it's at) which is primarily made of ginger, the bean they make chutney from, and some other herb is odiferous.
Plus he's been chewing copious amounts of raw ginger which he's sure will fix the problem, although how that's going to happen is beyond me short of him getting enough lodged in there to fill the holes.
Combine all of this with his badly-in-need-of-a-wash jacket and the sort of scent you get when you've showered fourteen hours ago and been sitting there sweating, and you can imagine the olfactory symphony to anybody that trails behind him when he walks. Yech.
The Sleeper has returned from his vacation. According to the Romanian guy who got to spend several hours with him this weekend, he's as bad or worse than ever. I didn't experience any of this joy however, as he only said hi before beating a hasty retreat.
I notice that between him and the FNG they didn't manage to close any blinds, shut off any lights, secure the server room, or lock up the laptops which are the prime reason there's even security in the building.
Of course, I'd only been for 64 hours. They barely had time! Fuckups.
When I was at Canada Place over the weekend, I ran into both of the ladies we had as temporary security over the past couple of weeks. Both of them were more competent than these two fuckups, and I know that the S/S has mentioned one of them in particular. I think I'm going to nudge him in the direction of replacing one of the old losers with one of the ladies. Here's hoping.
I met a couple from Louisiana when I was at the VCEC, and since they were walking in the direction I was patrolling, we made some conversation.
They were visiting family, but were specifically out to see the mountains. They asked if I had any recommendations, so I suggested the big glass gondola that goes up Grouse. They thought that sounded dynamite, and were even more excited at the notion that they might find a patch of snow up there.
Turns out that they've seen snow exactly four times in their lives, and once was something that sounded like it made about a molecule-thick layer on the ground before sublimating fifteen minutes later.
Of course, I can't look down on them too much for their inexperience. I've never lived in a place where cackling voodoo hags pole driftwood rafts through the cypress swamps and aligators eat scraps from your back porch.
Well, that's enough critical analysis of life for now, I'm going to go make with the laundry. And then wash it. :D
That property manager that keeps complaining about me. He met my eyes for a moment and made a little smile, but he immediately started looking a bit green.
So we got in the elevator and he keyed in his floor. I went to the same floor. ;)
He was distinctly uncomfortable. I've found that I appear to have the support of the client, so I'm not worried in the least anymore. On the other hand, he must have been thinking, would this low-paid security guy turn on him in the elevator and take out his neanderthal anger on his intellectual superior?
I did not.
But I let him sweat in my presence for a bit, then we got to our floor. He immediately went into the washroom. Wait, didn't he just come out of the washroom?
He must have swallowed something bitter. Poor lil fella.
On the way home from work there were three college students, to judge from their clothes and gear, talking about incredible wins and gambles they'd done in the casinos, and then they fell to talking about who they'd ripped wallets and money and stuff off of.
A lot of it sounded awfully improbable, but they'd pitched their voices to carry so I assume it was to impress each other and garner a reaction from the rest of us on the SkyTrain. Shrug.
Other Indian guy at work is getting stinkier. I mentioned before that his teeth were bothering him by being so full of holes that he's constantly sucking sharply at them in an attempt to dislodge whatever might be in there?
Well, the tooth powder that he uses (Indian guy can't believe that Other Indian guy uses that stuff. He says that in India, only poor people and old people that don't like change use powder. Paste is where it's at) which is primarily made of ginger, the bean they make chutney from, and some other herb is odiferous.
Plus he's been chewing copious amounts of raw ginger which he's sure will fix the problem, although how that's going to happen is beyond me short of him getting enough lodged in there to fill the holes.
Combine all of this with his badly-in-need-of-a-wash jacket and the sort of scent you get when you've showered fourteen hours ago and been sitting there sweating, and you can imagine the olfactory symphony to anybody that trails behind him when he walks. Yech.
The Sleeper has returned from his vacation. According to the Romanian guy who got to spend several hours with him this weekend, he's as bad or worse than ever. I didn't experience any of this joy however, as he only said hi before beating a hasty retreat.
I notice that between him and the FNG they didn't manage to close any blinds, shut off any lights, secure the server room, or lock up the laptops which are the prime reason there's even security in the building.
Of course, I'd only been for 64 hours. They barely had time! Fuckups.
When I was at Canada Place over the weekend, I ran into both of the ladies we had as temporary security over the past couple of weeks. Both of them were more competent than these two fuckups, and I know that the S/S has mentioned one of them in particular. I think I'm going to nudge him in the direction of replacing one of the old losers with one of the ladies. Here's hoping.
I met a couple from Louisiana when I was at the VCEC, and since they were walking in the direction I was patrolling, we made some conversation.
They were visiting family, but were specifically out to see the mountains. They asked if I had any recommendations, so I suggested the big glass gondola that goes up Grouse. They thought that sounded dynamite, and were even more excited at the notion that they might find a patch of snow up there.
Turns out that they've seen snow exactly four times in their lives, and once was something that sounded like it made about a molecule-thick layer on the ground before sublimating fifteen minutes later.
Of course, I can't look down on them too much for their inexperience. I've never lived in a place where cackling voodoo hags pole driftwood rafts through the cypress swamps and aligators eat scraps from your back porch.
Well, that's enough critical analysis of life for now, I'm going to go make with the laundry. And then wash it. :D
posted by Rimmy at 18:53
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