This fellow was at the gate for our concert the other night. He was having difficulty staying awake. I don’t have any picture of the security guards at my building, but this picture is a rough approximation of what I often see them doing. A few times, I have not been able to wake Mr. Fraser up and he is full-on snoring. He often takes his shoes off and puts his feet up.
Most buildings, residential and commercial have security guards here. How effective they are varies widely, however, especially if they sleep a lot. At most buildings, they monitor who enters and exits and lift the gate for cars to pass. They listen to music loud and often sing along, loud. They chat with passers-by, whether they know people or not. The security guards at my building are pretty typical, and while may not be awake on the job a lot of the time, they are a charming group. I could literally write a post everyday about my interactions with them.
First, there is Mr. Fraser. He is an older fellow with a few gold teeth and he likes to talk. I have had to convince him I am not interested in spending time off the job with him, I think he gets the message now. He still calls me the prettiest girl in the world everyday, and feels as though he must editorialize on my appearance everyday. He encourages me in my exercise endeavours and when I ask him how he is doing, he says he is taking it easy. Good to know I have a relaxed security guard.
Then there is Miss Henry. I am a little bit frightened of her. She is not always the friendliest person, although she is warming up to me now. When I walk by the booth, she will often simply call out to me what she wants me to bring back for her when I come home. Yesterday, she said: “Observer!” I said, pardon?’ and she said, “Bring me back an Observer.” This is the newspaper she reads. Other times she has asked me for a papaya and a mango and for a pair of my shoes. “And don’t let me down,” she tells me. I oblige her (not the shoes, though) since what she asks for is not costly. Miss Henry also sings very loudly, and she is not too bad at all.
My favourite is Miss Monica. She has just turned 63 (if I recall correctly) and has grandchildren and high blood pressure. Her daughter is a trained radiologist who is trying to qualify to move to Canada. Miss Monica has lived in England and likes the cold weather. I have tried to convince her that cold in England is nothing like cold in Canada but she is determined to move to Canada if her daughter goes there. Miss Monica also sings loudly, mostly about Jesus, and is a Seventh Day Adventist. She is kind and when I greet her, she says “Alright, baby.”
It must not be the most exciting job, sitting in a tiny booth and watching people come and go about their lives. Apparently, they are not paid very well. I know that I appreciate their presence. It makes me feel safer here.