Who watches the watchmen?
For best results, read Look into my ice first.
The security guard’s ass was a bit of a surprise. This is mostly because I was looking for soup at the time. Left to right, it went like this: chicken noodle, cream of chicken, cream of mushroom, cream of broccoli, security guard’s ass.
Hmmmm, I thought. I regarded the security guard’s ass for a moment. It was not a typical security guard’s ass, because there was no security guard head and torso above it. Instead, the head and torso were off to the side. The guard was bent over at the waist, hands on his knees, and peeking around the dry pasta display at the end of the aisle.
I instinctively knew that a guy so big and beefy wouldn’t bend over like that without a good reason. So, in a move reminiscent of the finest Bollywood musical romps, I leaned out behind the security guard and peeked around his head.
Aha! There was a big, lumbering fellow about three aisles away, standing beside the refrigerated dairy products. He had an unshaven, slack-jawed look that, if he were intelligent, utterly failed to communicate this. He wore a heavy, halfway-zipped jacket, the lower half of which bulged with conspicuous lumps. It was exactly the sort of thing that would interest a supermarket security guard, not to mention me.
Then I witnessed the big moment. The man glanced around nervously, then grabbed a block of shrink-wrapped cheddar cheese and dropped it into his jacket. The guard inhaled a deep, steady breath. This is no doubt the cum shot one lives for in this line of work.
I must admit, it was kind of exciting to witness this heinous act. And the fact that I was basically spying on the guy who was spying on the guy who did it made it even more exciting. Is there such a thing as a voyeur who gets off on covertly watching other voyeurs watch others? C’est moi.
Jacket dude lumbered down one of the aisles, and the guard, who was too intent on his prey to notice me, sauntered after him. The hunt was on. The guard resumed his peeking pose at the end of a new aisle, with me creeping up behind. Once again, I found myself faced with a security guard’s ass—only this time, I knew why.
Jacket dude was a terrible thief. He carried a half-full shopping basket as his cover, but this was no help. Aside from his conspicuous bulge problem, he was so skittish that he twitched every few seconds as if he were being poked by an invisible stick. As he meandered through the store, putting an item in the basket here and an item in his jacket there, the security guard stayed on his tail. And I stayed on the security guard’s trail, stealing glances whenever I could.
Finally, jacket dude arrived at the checkout to buy the items he’d placed in his basket. The scene that unfolded next was so well choreographed, and the comic timing was so perfect, that it could have been in a movie.
Moments after jacket dude entered the checkout line, the security guard took position at the other end of the line, such that he could easily intercept jacket dude on his way out of the store. He stood, arms crossed, and fixed jacket dude with a steady gaze. Meanwhile, jacket dude was nervously looking around, trying to determine if anybody was on to him. However, he was obviously so nervous that he wasn’t really paying attention to what he was seeing, because he looked right at the security guard a few times and didn’t seem to notice him.
Then, suddenly, he noticed the security guard. And he didn’t just notice him. He noticed him like a cartoon character might notice an oncoming truck. He did an astonishing, open-mouthed, 180-degree double take that nearly made me laugh out loud. Wide-eyed, jacket dude gaped at the security guard. The security guard didn’t react—he just stood there with his arms crossed, and gazed impassively right back at him.
The colour drained from jacket dude’s face. Like a trapped animal trying not to look like a trapped animal, he glanced around for an escape route. But he was boxed in. He couldn’t go back the way he came, because several other shoppers blocked the way. And he couldn’t go out the exit, because of the security guard. He was doomed. Unless....
Jacket dude slumped and looked at the floor in shame. There was only one thing he could do. Slowly, inconspicuously, he removed all the items from his jacket, placed them on the counter, and bought them. When he left the store, the security guard didn’t follow. At this point, I’m sure there was no need.
As I hurriedly finished my shopping and made my purchases, I reflected on the remarkable amount of blindness I’d seen that day. I don’t think the shoplifter or the security guard were ever aware of my presence, and none of the other shoppers seemed to notice the three of us as we snaked through the aisles. Even in the close-quarters environment of the checkout line, neither the cashier nor the other shoppers noticed the anxious gaping and jacket unloading that went on in their midst.
And if not for the unexpected intrusion of that ass into my soup browsing, I probably wouldn’t have clued in either.
That’s why, as I exited that supermarket, I silently thanked the security guard’s ass for what it had done. That ass had two-buttockedly jolted me out of my navel-gazing complacency and turned a mundane shopping trip into a tale of crime and intrigue.
And you must admit that for a security guard’s ass, that’s truly going above and beyond.
* * *
Deep beneath the lowest sub-basement of Canada Safeway Ltd. Store #4, something moved in the blackness. The sound of slithering, shuffling feet echoed along a dripping corridor.
“Master?”
An algae-covered wall slid away, and He was there.
“Report,” a raspy voice commanded.
“Yes, Master.” A screen flickered to life. On it was a slowly panning shot of the supermarket far above. “One of the human consumer drones is spying on human security drone MSW-735, Master.”
“Show me.”
“Yes, Master.” The cameras zoomed in and followed a young human male as he followed the security guard following the shoplifter through the aisles.
“Fascinating,” He hissed. “He sees and responds to the presence of the human security drone, yet he has been specifically conditioned to ignore such stimuli.”
“Yes, Master. Shall I have him liquidated, Master?”
For several minutes there was only the sound of phlegm burbling ruminatively in His throat. He stared at the screen, watching intently as the young human made his purchases and walked out the exit. He let out a soft grunt of inhuman pique.
“No. I am interested in this one,” He murmured. He snapped His fingers. “Place him under surveillance.”
“Yes, Master.”
* * *
I walked up the street with my groceries, pondering whether my experience with the security guard’s ass would make a good Wasting My Youth column.
Suddenly, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up. I was assailed by a sudden, inexplicable feeling of dread. I felt... cold.
I turned and studied the street behind me. Something was out of place. Was that mailbox there a moment ago? How about that streetlight? And what about that flying killer whale mascot? Was that always—
Huh? I rubbed my eyes and looked again. Of course, there was no flying killer whale mascot.
What the hell was I thinking? Shaking my head at my foolishness, I turned and continued up the street. •
Originally published in The Peak, November 1 1999.
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