Do I Really Need to Retire?
Posted: Sunday, February 01, 2009
by Ken McCreless
RMS1437
Greetings Fellow Travelers...
I have always said that I did not want to have to work as a Wal Mart greeter or a security guard when I reached retirement age. I may have to change that idea after what I saw a few days ago.
I work out of town and have an apartment there. It is two and a half hours away from my home. I also work the night shift, a 12 hour shift, and choose to do whatever shopping I need to do when I get out at 615 am. There is scant few other shoppers, which goes well with my "get in, get out" method.
I parked my car and walked towards the grocery store entrance. The sun had another 40 minutes or so before it peeked over the horizon and the latest in a series of cold fronts had put coats on everyone- except for the security guard.
He was dressed in the requisite black shoes, black pants and was wearing what looked like a white shirt. It was hard to tell colors because of the lighting, but the badge was certainly shiny and sparkling.
I might not have noticed him at all if it weren't for his determined stride.
His pace, slowed only by what I perceived to be a chronic back problem, seemed to belie his age, which had to be in the mid sixties. His hair had gone white some years ago and was gelled and combed back in what I believe would be called a "duck-tail."
The security vehicle, a white late model, compact sedan, was parked just outside of a line of concrete orbs, about three feet in diameter, that ran parallel to the building as a barrier for the occasional errant driver. Numerous scars and areas of color mis-match, where the off-white paint had been redone, stood as testament to their successful testing.
I watched as he made his way towards his vehicle, glaring off into the distance. There was no obvious infraction in progress that should warrant such a purposeful stare into the parking lot, just a few cars parked along its perimeter. Likely employees, I thought to myself, but no clear sign of any activity at all, let alone any requiring immediate intervention by law enforcement. No break-in attempts or any damsels in distress requesting a security escort-- nothing.
But onward he went.
Past his car.
I finally noticed where his eyes were focused and what was in his hand, previously held down to his side.
I had become acutely aware of the sound of hundreds of birds flitting about in a small tree between the fire lane and the first parking space. It was then that he drew and fired. The blast caused a dozen or so of the little winged intruders to flee, but not enough. A careless, haphazard aim was followed by another blast which cleared the tree of about half of it's non-rent paying inhabitants. I was a bit startled by the noise, but not scared. I recognized the weapon, as I have had one myself. It was an air horn.
All the while his pace and mine did not let up, not one bit. I was on a mission for sugar-free pudding and he was on a mission for a bird-free parking lot. I could no more deter him than him me, and neither side tried. Actually, I don't think he saw me at all.
I exited the store sometime later and did not think to check on the status of the gentleman's operation. I could not even testify as to the location of the security vehicle at that time as my search for ramen noodle bricks, a good glycemic index food, had erased any concern warranting further investigation. The security guard had returned to a hidden position best suited to surveillance. The orbs did not seem to have suffered further damage as well.
However, the twittering of the birds continued unabated.
I have always said that I did not want to have to work as a Wal Mart greeter or a security guard when I reached retirement age. I may have to change that idea after what I saw a few days ago.
I work out of town and have an apartment there. It is two and a half hours away from my home. I also work the night shift, a 12 hour shift, and choose to do whatever shopping I need to do when I get out at 615 am. There is scant few other shoppers, which goes well with my "get in, get out" method.
He was dressed in the requisite black shoes, black pants and was wearing what looked like a white shirt. It was hard to tell colors because of the lighting, but the badge was certainly shiny and sparkling.
I might not have noticed him at all if it weren't for his determined stride.
His pace, slowed only by what I perceived to be a chronic back problem, seemed to belie his age, which had to be in the mid sixties. His hair had gone white some years ago and was gelled and combed back in what I believe would be called a "duck-tail."
The security vehicle, a white late model, compact sedan, was parked just outside of a line of concrete orbs, about three feet in diameter, that ran parallel to the building as a barrier for the occasional errant driver. Numerous scars and areas of color mis-match, where the off-white paint had been redone, stood as testament to their successful testing.
I watched as he made his way towards his vehicle, glaring off into the distance. There was no obvious infraction in progress that should warrant such a purposeful stare into the parking lot, just a few cars parked along its perimeter. Likely employees, I thought to myself, but no clear sign of any activity at all, let alone any requiring immediate intervention by law enforcement. No break-in attempts or any damsels in distress requesting a security escort-- nothing.
But onward he went.
Past his car.
I finally noticed where his eyes were focused and what was in his hand, previously held down to his side.
I had become acutely aware of the sound of hundreds of birds flitting about in a small tree between the fire lane and the first parking space. It was then that he drew and fired. The blast caused a dozen or so of the little winged intruders to flee, but not enough. A careless, haphazard aim was followed by another blast which cleared the tree of about half of it's non-rent paying inhabitants. I was a bit startled by the noise, but not scared. I recognized the weapon, as I have had one myself. It was an air horn.
All the while his pace and mine did not let up, not one bit. I was on a mission for sugar-free pudding and he was on a mission for a bird-free parking lot. I could no more deter him than him me, and neither side tried. Actually, I don't think he saw me at all.
I exited the store sometime later and did not think to check on the status of the gentleman's operation. I could not even testify as to the location of the security vehicle at that time as my search for ramen noodle bricks, a good glycemic index food, had erased any concern warranting further investigation. The security guard had returned to a hidden position best suited to surveillance. The orbs did not seem to have suffered further damage as well.
However, the twittering of the birds continued unabated.
Ken McCreless is just a guy who loves to write, and was born to do so. He is a freelance writer with several projects ongoing, including books and magazines. A huge fan of both irony and history, Ken has dedicated his life and his writing to serve the Lord Jesus Christ.
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Top-level comments on this article: (9 total)Hello Ken, I am a fan of yours, and enjoy reading your articles like this one. You articulate so well in your words, that I can "see", step by step, what you are talking about as well as what you are doing. Your observation to detail is to say the least, very impressive. You had me from the first to the last, which transfixed my attention to finish to the end. And again, you did not disappoint me. Although I am glad that the security guard had a airhorn, and not a gun....."whew". Great visual, Great content, and a enjoyable read.....thanks for putting it out here......your friend in pen....Gary.Hey, Thank you, Gary, I do appreciate the kind words. I can remember watching this scene unfold and thinking "this would make a good story." I am very glad you liked it.
hi ken,i just got back from wal-mart. our store has sea gulls flying around, and we're almost into Pa. i hope you write a book, and that can supplement your income, and enlighten people's lives,thanks for sharing,my best regards,sueThanks, Sue. My passion is writing and I would love to do it full time, for a living. I'll just keep pluggin' away!
Hi Ken, thanks for the great read. I always feel as if I am right there with you. Thanks for another smile. Blessings to you!Thank you, Teresa. What a journey words can provide!
Excellent little article and observant description, Ken. I enjoyed reading it.Good job.Thank you, Joel. I do love to write...
Very well written and humurous. Your the only person whom I joined your fan club after reading just one article. Keep it up!That's a great compliment, Gregory and I do appreciate it.
Very descriptive and interesting observations - and sad too - I suspect if you really looked at thelives of many - there would be a sadness...his hatred for the little birds says so much about whohe really is...Good writing - I really see this old guy. Thanks! CherylThank you, Cheryl. Strangely enough, I did not see the sadness until you pointed it out. Awesome...
Hi Ken. You write the shortest short stories and most enjoyable. Poor man and birds. Who said life was for the birds? He obviously doesn't think so.
Happy Anniversary to you and your wife, Ken.He sure was focused! Thank you, Avis. We had a decent Anniversary, though I was working.
Nice article, Ken. I could just see that security guard with the one-thought-focus determined to do his duty to the best of his ability. Great descriptive wording. Loved it.SandraThank you, Sandra. Words are my fave!
Enjoyable read Ken. SteveThank you, Steve, great to hear from you.
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