getting to know you....getting to know ALL about you...

"....getting to like you...hoping that you'll like me...."

um, no. more like hoping you won't shoot me....this ain't siam anymore misses anna.....

the first thing to do as a guard is get to know where you are working....get to know the property (check) and find out who is who...how else will you figure out who to bug about why they are on the property if you don't know who lives there? seems reasonable enough.

so i'm going to give you the run down of folks...granted it took me close to a week to meet everybody on the list...but at least you have a guide to our cast of characters....some of these folks will have names...others of these will just be descriptions...note that the names have been changed to protect the innocent (or not so much)...this could get crazy and take several posts...hope that's okay.....

the numbers were put on these apartments by a crack addict so the sequence makes NO sense...it sort of wraps around the buildings in this weird way....you'd think that it wouldn't be so hard to figure out with so few apartments...

i'll start with our east side building....this side was usually much quieter

so the top floor consists (from south to north) of apartments 11-15, the bottom floor, 1-5.
so the bottom of this set is pretty quiet....i never saw anyone associated with 1-3 or number 5

now number 4, that's an interesting place. there were two fluffy arm chairs (and when i say fluffy i really mean formerly comfortable and currently flat , ripped, one sided and missing cushions, but the cats like them)...the fellow who lived there enjoyed peering out of the blinds at dane and myself as we would make rounds. occasionally some exceptionally drunk person would be hanging out with the cats on the "fluffy" chairs.

The top floor was most nights a hotbed of activity....

number 11 was home to tall, rail thin african american man in his 50s named henry....henry would usually just hang out on the porch and chain smoke...but often he would creep from his side of the complex over to the back of the west side bugging people to use their phones and snag cans of beer.....he also had many many many visitors who would come and stay only a few minutes and then leave...i had some special favorites of these visitors that i will share with you soon....

12 was vacant

13 was occupied by a very frail older african-american woman whom i saw only once

No. 14...how to explain no. 14?......drunk and stoned and emmiting a continual cloud of pot smoke...that's a good place to start....

a story from our 2nd night on the job:
dane and i figured out very quickly that the north parking lot was a much better spot to take in the activities of the complex. there is only one blind spot on this side and the lighting is better....we parked out trucks side by side and kept the windows down so that we could chat with each other...i was working on homework and he was watching family guy on his dvd player.....have i mentioned how working the 8-4am shift, sitting in my truck, makes time for me to do homework as well as guard...go multitasking

so
a seriously scruffy and drunk white guy in his 60s staggers over to dane's truck. he leans precarously....the 12 pack of pbr seemed to be weighing heavily on his ability to stand (i mean the one he'd just bought at the liquor store down the street, but it's fair to say that the two he'd probably consumed prior could have been effecting this as well).....he holds onto dane's mirror with his free hand and begins yelling...
"waaaa z fuuk u dooin here?"
to which dane said..."sir??" (he's very polite, this young midwestern boy)
"hhhi sed....waaaas z fuuuk u doooin here? ..zon yooo sssppeek fuukin' englesh?"
"oh, sorry. i'm here as a security guard. we (pointing over at me) are here to help you if you need us"
"waaa z fuk?!....wee don need heelp.....weee jusss need beeer... you wan one?"
"no thank you. that's very nice, but we are working"
"waaaa z fuk??? you too fukin gooodta drin ma fukin beeer? i'm uh nam vet dammmn you....you shou drin ma beeer"
"that's cool, but we can't we're working."
"fuk you! youuur like z man! wee don nee you here.....you shou lea....so ge z fuk outta here...."
"sir please back away from my truck. we aren't trying to cause trouble."
"waaa all diss weee shit?" he turns to me "youur a par of diss conspirsy?"
"no sir, we are just doing our job."
"tel your fukin frien to lea me z fuk alone....i'm a vie' nam vet!"
dane gets out of his truck because drunk guy has now started in my direction (read lets go of dane's mirror and leans more towards me and staggers a little)
"sir, dane is just doing his job, he's not going to hurt you"
"don stan behin me you fukin' fool....i can cut yoou wi ma special gun"
(dane turns white, he can't see that the special gun is actually the drunk guys fingers)
"sir there isn't any need for that, dane is just doing his job."
"fuk himm..................(swaying just a bit)....you wanna beer?"
"no thanks"
"oooh....well fuk ya'll then...i'm goin' finish gettin' druunk....(whirls around like a weeble wobble and points at dane) and don snea up on me u fuk....i'm a vet."

see...totally getting to know and like you

when the guy staggered up the stairs to his house...dane says...."well that was lovely...do you suppose he's the welcome wagon?"

the welcome wagon actually lived in 15.
harry and his wife...older hispanic couple with a HUGE american bulldog puppy...they usually sat out on their porch and the wife...a very short round woman would "walk" this dog...basically munchkin as her hubby always called her (i never knew her name) would let fool...yes fool was the dog's name...drag her around while he sniffed and peed and she giggled...they were cute....they were friendly folk....there will be more about them later

so is that enough to digest at the moment?...are songs from "the king and i" now lodged hopelessly in your head for the next several hours?....

oh goody....