For now, I live in some regular apartments. Not gunshot. Not exclusive. Just regular. My apartments are pretty quiet and orderly, but to be sure somebody’s selling crack on the premises. Until recently we had a guard for a few hours per night. He walked the grounds and kept the rift raft out of the parking lots. Sometimes he checked IDs when people didn’t know the gate code, but most times he didn’t; he just opened it.
Our new apartment manager, Babs, is a regular hard working chic from New Orleans who moved here a year before Katrina hit. But no one would think she didn’t arrive in a runaway bus with the Katrinians. Anyway, she’s been working for the complex around 3 years and the owners finally upped her title to that of Manager. She’s taking it seriously, too. Very seriously.
Her first order of business? Hiring 4 Bout It Bout It type security guards. All handsome and fit. (Go Babs). Now, imagine the guards checking IDs of everyone who enters the complex. In the rain. Without a guard shack. It goes something like this: Guard jumps out of his truck, fumbles with umbrella, asks for ID, driver looks at him like he’s crazy, he pleads “This is my job, man”, gets the driver’s license, writes some ish down on a crumpled pad, and sprints back into his truck…until the next car pulls up.
I have a tenant sticker on my car, but the security even checks THAT through and through.
Seems to me that if you don’t provide your guards with shelter and a television, they aren’t supposed to be doing gate guard detail.
Then, once I was a day late paying my rent and Babs had a letter tacked on my door erroneously addressed to “Abdul Penyar” with a totally wrong Amount Due. If course this was on her new pink, flowery, letterhead – with 3 misspellings.
Our new apartment manager, Babs, is a regular hard working chic from New Orleans who moved here a year before Katrina hit. But no one would think she didn’t arrive in a runaway bus with the Katrinians. Anyway, she’s been working for the complex around 3 years and the owners finally upped her title to that of Manager. She’s taking it seriously, too. Very seriously.
Her first order of business? Hiring 4 Bout It Bout It type security guards. All handsome and fit. (Go Babs). Now, imagine the guards checking IDs of everyone who enters the complex. In the rain. Without a guard shack. It goes something like this: Guard jumps out of his truck, fumbles with umbrella, asks for ID, driver looks at him like he’s crazy, he pleads “This is my job, man”, gets the driver’s license, writes some ish down on a crumpled pad, and sprints back into his truck…until the next car pulls up.
I have a tenant sticker on my car, but the security even checks THAT through and through.
Seems to me that if you don’t provide your guards with shelter and a television, they aren’t supposed to be doing gate guard detail.
Then, once I was a day late paying my rent and Babs had a letter tacked on my door erroneously addressed to “Abdul Penyar” with a totally wrong Amount Due. If course this was on her new pink, flowery, letterhead – with 3 misspellings.
Do you know anyone who takes his/her job too seriously? Are they doing a good job?
I think I was one of those 'Dwight' people WITH NO LIFE for about 2 months until I found online scrabble this weekend, lol. I think those people just need to get a life.
ReplyDeleteThat's the magic of SpellCheck! IT says everthing is fine then a review of a letter mass distributed combs out you wrote thinks instead of thanks.
ReplyDeleteOr my favorite:
Dead So-N-So,
She needs to chill though, I can't be fighting off those gaurds each time I come by. And I just hate giving my ID to peolpe, other that cops, that write stuff down from it. I know it's just the job - but if you are trying to secure the apt community - walk a drug sniffing dog through the apts.