One callsign for half a year, then three in a day. Eek!

(radio beeps)

"Operations, this is x-ray 17."

"Go ahead x-ray 17."

(Fast, fast talking in very clear but educated Indian accent. Literally too fast to follow. Went on for better than thirty seconds)

Pause.

"Ten-four x-ray 17, are you radioing because there's a dog on your site barking at you aggressively?"

(More fast talking, but preceded with a "yes")

"Ten-four x-ray 17."

What an odd little non sequitor.

So yesterday I went in for some extra work for an event down at the Vancouver Convention and Exhibition Centre. It was busy.

One of the interesting things about working security is that you get to see behind the curtains of how so many places and events run. I find that interesting, anyway.

So for the first five hours there I did non-stop patrols in an area that had been turned into a temporary television studio. I don't know how many millions of dollars of electronics had been moved into this hall, but I had a great time trying to puzzle out what they all did and marvel that anybody could slap all of those thousands of cables into a semblance of sense.

Then I was stuck on a long corridor patrol where I had to check the plants. Really.

Well, sort of. There was wireless internet being provided by the host of the convention, and they'd disguised the pickups in a series of plants down this hallway. And since you don't want someone walking off with an expensive little bit of hardware, it got watched.

And after the doors inexplicably released at around 0600, I followed homeless people around in the hallway. Only had to kick one out. After he'd finished pinching a loaf in the bathroom, of course. ;)

And the scents that maintainance had in some of these dubious-looking bathrooms backstage... fantastic!

There was an alpine meadow one in one of the women's washroom that actually smelled just like that, and it was good.

And a cool pink bubblegum one in one of the men's that astonishingly enough wasn't out of place.

I might have been bored by lack of stimulation when I was impressed by these, so let's move on. :P

Then they stuck me upstairs watching people come and go into meeting rooms. That was pretty boring, but by the end of it I'd been there for twelve hours, had been awake for thirty hours, and hadn't eaten for most of that time. I was ready to go home.

I made an interesting contact though - someone I'd heard of in passing but never met. I'm not actually sure of his technical position with my company, but he's incredibly competent and friendly.

Not to mention he's got a great name. I won't tell you what it is, but it's definitely worth a good six million dollars. ;)

I told him about that stunt my S/S played with my OT, and he was pissed.

"When I was zone, or csm, I never heard about that shit. Your S/S was under my purvue. And I still have a lot of influence over the people that matter. If you have any more problems, tell them you want to speak to me."

I should mention that we got along right away, joking about how good the uniform looks and such.

Did I mention I was wearing a blazer and slacks? Cheap though they were, I looked pretty damn good in that. Padded shoulders and all.

The black Agent Smith earbud for the discreet radio clipped under my blazer with the microphone snaked down my sleeve added a surreal touch. ;)

Anyway, the Bionic Man made a point of telling me that there's some people he just doesn't want on his site, and some that he remembers to ask for when they need extra help again. Apparently I'm in the latter category. That's kind of nice. :)