Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to bear witness to the story of how I got downright fucking pissed at Security officers. It was back in the days of the D-GAS scrub store.
With no managers, the opener and the closer got a key; namely, I or an employee we shall call Dumbass would close, and Single Mom would open after getting the kiddos off to school.
Oh, also relevant; the hallways behind the stores. To recap: they are there to let employees transport trash and/or cash throughout most of the mall without exposing themselves to mall traffic and the danger of having their tills taken from them by NATs. These are mazes and even the most experienced mall slave is apt to get turned around due to the sameness of every hallway and the lack of store names on the doors that you may pass.
So, after closing, we creep out the back door, deposit in a bank slot a hallway and innumerable turns away, return, sign out, grab our shit, make sure the door is locked, and go home.
The store closes at 9. You have to count down the till (easily half an hour because after one person counts it, a second employee has to re-count it and confirm it) and clean up the store in the time left. Then there's the hallway run and depositing. By the time we're on the road home it's just after 10pm. Midnight on holidays.
Dumbass counts. I confirm. We clean, deposit, return, grab our gear and prepare to go. Dumbass closes the door behind us.
Why all this detail you ask? Because this is the list of events leading to what made me snap like a twig.
I get home, and my parents are already unconscious. They've prepared and left me a plate of something that is now cold, but still edible for dinner. I eat. I brush my teeth, shower and crawl into bed.
MURDER! DEATH! KILL! RAWR!
MOTHER OF THROGNAR WHERE ARE MY GODDAMN GLASSES WHAT FUCKING TIME IS IT?!
2 FUCKING AM?!
Kicking clear of my blankets I charge down the hall and grab the phone as my parents make sleepy complaining noises.
In a deadly calm voice: If this is a telemarketer, I swear I will hunt your ass down and they will never find the pieces!
Security: Is this Ilia?
Me: *growl* Yes.
Security: The back door to your store isn't locked. We need you to lock it.
Me: You waited until 2 am to tell me this? The store closed at 9. we left at 10. Why did it take until 2 am for you to realize this?
Security: *persnickety* Because that's when we do the first patrol.
Four hours later? Are you fucking kidding me? You leave the stores unchecked for four hours in a mall that never locks its front doors?!
For the record, the massive main hallways are left easily accessible for the health nuts that show up between 4 am and 9 am to jog back and forth and up and down stairs in a safe, sheltered environment. There is, however, nothing more than unsecured swinging doors between a determined NAT and the back hallways.
Security: We need you to come down and lock the door. We tried to call Dumbass, but she's not answering.
Me: *thinking* You know what? I should have followed her example. *out loud* Yeah, okay, I'll be there in 30 minutes.
Muttering and swearing, I get dressed.
Dad: Where are you going in the middle of the damn night?
I explain to him.
Dad: Wait, I'm getting dressed too. If Security took this long to find a problem, I don't trust them to keep you safe in a parking lot in the middle of the night.
So we drive through the deserted city to freeway, and into the next city over, and show up at the employee entrance to the back hallways. It's locked, and I don't have the key to this door. Security drives up and throws the headlights upon me.
These particular folks are apparently completely unaware that there's a door inside in need of locking, and I have to explain the situation before they call on the radio for confirmation. I'm eventuallylet in.
I open the door, reach in and spin the little locking button. Because the place is so cheapass, the alarm only covers the main part of the store, and the teeny hallway that makes up the "breakroom" where, also, boxes of shit are stored, is not.
I close the door and jiggle the handle to the satisfaction of the security officer who followed me. Being followed, I cannot complain about; this made sense since they didn't know me from Eve and didn't want someone to run about in the back hallways without a chaperone.
However, I was also not happy with having to get up, drive, and lock a damn door that had a manual lock. Even allowing for the unknown factor of the alarm not covering that part of the store... four fucking hours? What were they DOING for that long? Even waiting till 11, to make sure that everyone had gone home, would have made perfect sense.
Me: Please let the other security personnel know that they need to check much sooner than 2 am. I do NOT appreciate calls this late over something that could have been resolved much sooner.
By the time I got back to bed, it was after 3 am. I got up at 7am the next morning.
And if anyone wonders, I got two more calls to the store due to Dumbass not checking the back doors before I left that job.
May all your customers be nice,