Thank You, Kind Patriot!

I'm walking into work this morning through the back door of the building. It's mostly the front door, since most people park in the back. It's a little before 9am, and I am one of three people arriving to the door about the same time. Due to regulations of insecurity and perceived attention of Orwellian stature, we have Photo-ID badges along with the access badge you wave over the sensor so the door that you don't really want to go through will unlock.

As I arrive to the door I'm on the phone with a misdirected, self-important, and panicking "English As A Form of 3 Languages" efficiency analyst, and not having a whole lot of fun in the process. Efficacy of Communication = More Time For Actual Productivity. The Guy ahead of me waves his badge, opens the door, and I slide in behind him, phone in one hand, pistol-grip flask in the other. Kidding, it was just my notebook from last week's meeting with the Dingleberry 5, er, CONTRACT PARTNERS. ANYway...

The guy behind me, who hopped out of his Saab, tied a scarf around his neck - after, of course, donning a pair of woolen mittens and canvas/courdoroy jacket - for the 24 second walk to the door (all ordered from the LL Bean "Overkill" collection), and was a step or two behind me then says "Hey, sorry, I'm gonna have to ask you to swipe your badge. I know it's crazy, but..."

Yes, "Todd," it is crazy. I've never seen you before. You don't have the authority to command my badge-swiping. I've been here 6 years and have the old-school badge to f*cking-A prove it. Maybe he saw the look on my face and immediately thought "Disgruntled, carrying a black bag, I could be on the 5 o'clock news!"
Sure thing, with the text "Man Beaten Diaper-Bound In Bothell For Attempting Authority." I didn't have the extra hand to swipe the badge, but I figured, what the heck, I'll bother this guy for a few minutes.

I tell my phone conversationist that I need to go due to a security breach, and I hang up. I then pat my pockets and belt-line to find my badge, which was clipped to my belt, but hidden by my jacket. So as he stands there losing his gruntle, I think "I could totally take this guy in a fight," and therefore start the "Gosh, hmm, where... gosh, did I leave it?... well, how about we go to the front desk so I can get a pass for the day. Looks like I forgot my badge this morning." The look on Toddlet's face changes to "Well at least I can save the day." Then he looked at his watch, and the amount of F*cking I was going to do with him shifted up a gear. Every extra 5 seconds I have to spend here is 5 extra minutes for the cause of my slow-down.

We walked to the badging/security station, a good 150 feet from our original entrance in near silence. The guy was annoyed at this point, but I'm a teaching soul, I couldn't let him not learn the importance of not giving a crap about work. Even if I was a guy who was going to shoot the place up, I didn't know him, so before his interruption, he would have been among the survivors. But now, hey, don't I deserve a little entertainment?

I tell the guy at the front that I forgot my badge and this prick to my right stopped me at the back door like a good watchdog. Not in those words, but y'unnerstan'. I draw out the explanation as long as I can, stating I must have left the badge on my desk over the weekend and you know how that happens and then you feel like it's a Catch-22 did you ever read that book it was better than the movie but at the same time... moving on. Finally the Security Guy (he's really not a Guard of anything) says "Uh, what's your extension?"
Gosh... I really hope I can remember it, being 4 numbers and all.
2 combinations later, he dials it and looks up at me, about the same time I, SURPRISE AND HOSANNA, find my badge in my inner pocket!

I swipe it and cruise through the doors up to Boredom Ave. about the same time I notice Saab Taad tilt his head back and inhale deeply in the universal gesture of getting a facial in an adult film. That's right Taad, you're on Carenot Camera! Start counting down from 100 by 4's, cool off, you seem a little disgruntled!
Next time remember that not all of us want to be here, and questioning who I am on a MONDAY MORNING is a great way to have my disregard for your schedule exercised to exhaustion. If I'm here, and I'm wearing a shirt with buttons and a sport coat, 99% chance that I'm supposed to be here. Tomorrow I'm wearing body armor and rapelling through the 2nd-floor conference room window, badge laminated to my breastplate. BINK, access granted!

Then I sat down at my desk and Happy stopped. At least I got to bother a Republican.
=========
Take Me Home

My Non-Funny Blog.