Well, that’s it. I’m on the lam. I shouldn’t be writing this, wasting precious time that could be spent deciding whether I want my new identity to be Francesca La Maradonna, Esq, flamboyant countess and lover of fine linens, or Jo-Mary Hoddwag, down-to-earth mobile home inhabitant and lover of fine collectible plates featuring the cast of Seventh Heaven.
See, yesterday I…ignored a security guard and snuck an unauthorized visitor into the Department of Fisheries and Oceans.
Now, in fairness to me, said visitor was the Parliamentary Secretary to the Minister of Fisheries and Oceans, and his photo is on file and all, like, six security guards are supposed to recognize him, and he’s been the PS for TWO YEARS, and the security guard on duty that day is about 800 years old and can barely see or speak and really was completely at fault.
And in his defence – um…he’s really, really old.
Now, I don’t want to come off as ageist here, because that’s not the issue. I mean, Gran’pa Floyd is 76 and he’s still the one I’d want watching my back in a zombie fight because a) he’s freaking tough and b) he owns many, many rifles.
But this guy? Is just…feeble. He is a feeble old man. If they replaced him with a sign that said “mumble mumble” they would achieve the same level of security. His job consists of two things – checking security passes (which he CANNOT SEE from ONE FOOT AWAY even with GLASSES as I found out yesterday) and making sure people without them go to the desk.
Which brings me to yesterday. My boss has no pass. He needs no pass. Dude does not understand this. So when he mumbles after us to check in at the desk, a low mumble which my boss does not hear, I made a split decision to IGNORE HIM. Because, dude? It is not my job to secure myself. It is your freakin’ job. And if you can’t do it, then too bad. I’m sure you’re a great grandfather, (and probably a great-grandfather too) and a wonderful person and a pillar of the community but you sure as hell aren’t making me feel any safer.
And you know what? That’s what security guards are for – to make things safer. They are the guardians of security – the place of business, the employees, the customers and visitors. This is a real actual job that requires a real actual skill set. My crazy obnoxious roommate from second year worked night security and, yes, she was crazy and obnoxious, but at least she’d be capable of a quick reaction to an emergency situation, even if that emergency situation is just stopping someone from getting in the elevator.
Hey, as long as I’m going down this road, I’m gonna make a pit-stop at How-do-they-decide-what-to-confiscate-ville. I’m talking about when you have to walk through the little scanner and put your shit through the x-ray machine, and then they single you out and thoroughly inspect your collection of wind chimes as if you’re planning on...shit, I don't even know what you could do with wind chimes... "Now turn this plane around, or I will fill the cabin with the sound of metal pieces hitting each other!" "Oh no! We'd better do as she says...she has miniature bejewlled dolphins on a string!!!"
Seriously, do they like, throw a bunch of shit into a bucket, and then the intern sticks his hand in and the first 20 things he pulls out are banned objects? Back when I was a tour guide, it really seemed like it. After September 11th, the staff who worked the scanners really cranked up their protection of our capitol building by neutralizing such threats as:
A )Elderly women with nail clippers
B) Girl Scouts with whistles
C) Elementary school kids with hand-held Canadian flags
I guess I wouldn’t be a very good security guard, because I fail to see how any of those pose a threat to the safety and/or decorum of Parliament. But a real security guard could tell you that a) DANGEROUS OBJECTS! b) LOUD NOISES! and c) SYMBOLS OF CANADA! are very, very bad things to have in Parliament (aside – if an old lady manages to kill you with NAIL CLIPPERS - survival of the fittest, that’s all I’m saying).
In all fairness, I guess you could make an argument for A) and B). But if you bring a whistle into Parliament for the sole purpose of making a scene, then you probably aren’t above, say, yelling really loudly. And god knows if your nail clippers get taken away, then you might have to use your hands, and I’d rather be attacked with someone’s nail clippers than someone’s fists.
Same thing for planes: I can’t bring my knitting needles, but some black belt gets to bring her hands? If we’re serious about safety, than martial arts experts, covert operatives and vampire and/or demon slayers should be forced to declare themselves as lethal weapons and then wear some sort of Hannibal Lecter-type full-body cage. And it should be sparkly, for the amusement of other passengers. I mean, knitting needles? Yes, some are sharp and pointy. But others are basically two dull sticks; the only way I could kill someone with a pair of those would be if I tossed the needles to them and then strangled them while their hands were full. (Editor's Note -Okay, I just did I little fact-checking, and it turns out that kniiting needles are A-OK. So...sorry, airplane guys. And thanks for allowing my fellow passengers to be armed with whips!)
See, yesterday I…ignored a security guard and snuck an unauthorized visitor into the Department of Fisheries and Oceans.
Now, in fairness to me, said visitor was the Parliamentary Secretary to the Minister of Fisheries and Oceans, and his photo is on file and all, like, six security guards are supposed to recognize him, and he’s been the PS for TWO YEARS, and the security guard on duty that day is about 800 years old and can barely see or speak and really was completely at fault.
And in his defence – um…he’s really, really old.
Now, I don’t want to come off as ageist here, because that’s not the issue. I mean, Gran’pa Floyd is 76 and he’s still the one I’d want watching my back in a zombie fight because a) he’s freaking tough and b) he owns many, many rifles.
But this guy? Is just…feeble. He is a feeble old man. If they replaced him with a sign that said “mumble mumble” they would achieve the same level of security. His job consists of two things – checking security passes (which he CANNOT SEE from ONE FOOT AWAY even with GLASSES as I found out yesterday) and making sure people without them go to the desk.
Which brings me to yesterday. My boss has no pass. He needs no pass. Dude does not understand this. So when he mumbles after us to check in at the desk, a low mumble which my boss does not hear, I made a split decision to IGNORE HIM. Because, dude? It is not my job to secure myself. It is your freakin’ job. And if you can’t do it, then too bad. I’m sure you’re a great grandfather, (and probably a great-grandfather too) and a wonderful person and a pillar of the community but you sure as hell aren’t making me feel any safer.
And you know what? That’s what security guards are for – to make things safer. They are the guardians of security – the place of business, the employees, the customers and visitors. This is a real actual job that requires a real actual skill set. My crazy obnoxious roommate from second year worked night security and, yes, she was crazy and obnoxious, but at least she’d be capable of a quick reaction to an emergency situation, even if that emergency situation is just stopping someone from getting in the elevator.
Hey, as long as I’m going down this road, I’m gonna make a pit-stop at How-do-they-decide-what-to-confiscate-ville. I’m talking about when you have to walk through the little scanner and put your shit through the x-ray machine, and then they single you out and thoroughly inspect your collection of wind chimes as if you’re planning on...shit, I don't even know what you could do with wind chimes... "Now turn this plane around, or I will fill the cabin with the sound of metal pieces hitting each other!" "Oh no! We'd better do as she says...she has miniature bejewlled dolphins on a string!!!"
Seriously, do they like, throw a bunch of shit into a bucket, and then the intern sticks his hand in and the first 20 things he pulls out are banned objects? Back when I was a tour guide, it really seemed like it. After September 11th, the staff who worked the scanners really cranked up their protection of our capitol building by neutralizing such threats as:
A )Elderly women with nail clippers
B) Girl Scouts with whistles
C) Elementary school kids with hand-held Canadian flags
I guess I wouldn’t be a very good security guard, because I fail to see how any of those pose a threat to the safety and/or decorum of Parliament. But a real security guard could tell you that a) DANGEROUS OBJECTS! b) LOUD NOISES! and c) SYMBOLS OF CANADA! are very, very bad things to have in Parliament (aside – if an old lady manages to kill you with NAIL CLIPPERS - survival of the fittest, that’s all I’m saying).
In all fairness, I guess you could make an argument for A) and B). But if you bring a whistle into Parliament for the sole purpose of making a scene, then you probably aren’t above, say, yelling really loudly. And god knows if your nail clippers get taken away, then you might have to use your hands, and I’d rather be attacked with someone’s nail clippers than someone’s fists.
Same thing for planes: I can’t bring my knitting needles, but some black belt gets to bring her hands? If we’re serious about safety, than martial arts experts, covert operatives and vampire and/or demon slayers should be forced to declare themselves as lethal weapons and then wear some sort of Hannibal Lecter-type full-body cage. And it should be sparkly, for the amusement of other passengers. I mean, knitting needles? Yes, some are sharp and pointy. But others are basically two dull sticks; the only way I could kill someone with a pair of those would be if I tossed the needles to them and then strangled them while their hands were full. (Editor's Note -Okay, I just did I little fact-checking, and it turns out that kniiting needles are A-OK. So...sorry, airplane guys. And thanks for allowing my fellow passengers to be armed with whips!)
I’m not trying to say that we shouldn’t have security policies and people to uphold them. I’m not saying said policies and people aren’t important. They absolutely freakin’ are. And because they’re important, the policies should be reasonable and sound, and the people should be capable of enforcing them. But when you get dumb-ass policies thrown together without reflection, and dumb-asses incapable either a) critical thought or b) doing two push-ups without a break in between, then there’s really no freakin’ point is there?
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