Pacific Security, the company I reluctantly work for now, has had me pretty busy the last few days at a Catepillar plant in Whittier, CA. They're laying off a bunch of gorillas there and my job, ladies and gentlemen, is to convince them to leave quietly, to just put down the truck wrenches and pipes and go home.
All the employees now regard me as the angel of death. They practically hide under their desks when they see me coming. One secretary tried to bribe me with hard liquor. Mostly, I stand out in the parking lot like some sort of uniformed corporate scarecrow, a deterent to any employees . . . uh, ex-employees, who might decide to go home, arm themselves and come back with a bang-up opinion to express.
The other day I was working Torrance Memorial Hospital. Part of THAT job is to go down to the hospital morgue, pull open the body storage drawers, unzip the body bag and check the corpse for jewelry. If I find any (I didn't), I would have to remove it and log it in to the death bag book.
The Catepillar place is better. I get to hang out in the Truck Service Waiting Room and hit on the female truckers.
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