Only Captain Kirk Knows How I Feel

Wednesday, February 20, 2008

They're Real and They're Spectacular...but Please Don't Touch Them

Have I mentioned before how much I dislike the security guards at my work? They are so incredibly worthless. A bunch of old men and tiny women. Now, I am very proud of being a woman myself, and never think of myself as less than any male, but I understand that if some 250 pound man is rampaging, I am not going to be able to do a damn thing to stop it, especially without a weapon. But these tiny little women, 5 feet tall, are charged with protecting us. Ha! And a bunch of old, fat men, with beer bellies and bald spots. They make me feel oh so safe!

Except, of course, when they are being annoying. Like when they are demanding to see my cell phone, to make sure it doesn't have a camera on it. Oh my god, not a camera phone...eeek! Or, even though I have been working here for 7 freaking years, they still demand to see my badge, to verify that I am an employee and am allowed to walk through the employee entrance. Because I'm a shape-shifter and my face changes on a daily basis! Or when one very tall guard, instead of moving out of the way so that people could walk through, just held his arm up instead, and hadn't bathed for several weeks, or ever washed his uniform...that was disgusting. Literally made my eyes water from the stench.

Or this morning, when one of the guards touched my tit.

Of course, I suppose she probably didn't mean to. I had beeped, like I always do when I walk through the metal detector, and she was waving her little wand over me, trying to determine what sort of dangerous thing I had hidden in my bra (maybe it's the tiny, bra-mounted submachine gun that I carry for personal protection! Or my launchable steel-plated nipple knives, accurate up to 30 feet! Or maybe just an underwire) and her hand brushed my boob (on the inside slope, right above the nipple, in case you were wondering...pervert).

Man, I feel so violated.

I wonder if she wants my phone number.

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