Dear Number Eleven. (A Rant).

Dear Number Eleven,

With every fiber of my being I want to follow what society tells me is okay and trash your job based solely on the stereotype that all security officers are “wannabe cops.”

However, I know I am unable to justifiably do that because

I don’t know your life

or your history

or your dreams

and how you do your job

But I do know this: you have a reputation. And you should know that you have a reputation.

And though reputations mean nothing if one gets to know a person I do know that tonight, you lived up to yours.

Let me paint you a picture:

I pull into the circle and grab my keys, running to grab my boyfriends wallet because all he needs is some laundry detergent and needs to do laundry so he has clean clothes but he’s on duty and can’t go himself

And when I walk in, he tells me about an assignment he’s working on

And I listen because I should

And when I walk outside maybe ten minutes later I see an empty car next to mine

Lights flashing

And have no clue what this means

So I head to the store

And buy the detergent.

When I come back,

I sit in my car and wait and wait for his round to be done so he can get his detergent and go back to his job

When you pull up next to me.

Number Eleven.

And you ask me if I was parked here earlier

And I say, “No, I wasn’t”

And you ask, “Are you sure?”

Like I’m some hardened criminal evading arrest

And then you have the audacity to shine the giant light on the top of your car into the back of mine as if I’m committing a crime and say, “Nope, it was definitely you.”

But I reply, “I just ran in to grab something.”

And you LIE to me, saying “Well, I waited here for like 25 minutes and no one came out, but I didn’t have my ticket book so I went in to get it and then you were gone. But you can’t park here because it’s a fire lane and it’s a $100 ticket. And I hate giving out tickets so next time just don’t get out of your car or park somewhere else.”

And I nod and say, “Oh, okay” and “Thanks” and we part our ways.

But what you DON’T know is that while I went to grab the card from my boyfriend, I heard you on the walkie Number Eleven talking about a car parked outside a townhouse with it’s hazards on

And how you didn’t have any tickets but wanted someone to come bring you some tickets

Because even though we are allowed to unload as long as we aren’t parked, you felt like he was there “awhile,” which I guess is too long?

I don’t know, you were very nondescript.

But I was inside about ten minutes

And I bet the security camera could vouch for me

And I have been told by countless numbers of people and even a DIFFERENT security officer that it is okay to load and unload in that place

So don’t try to intimidate me.

Don’t tell me you don’t like to give tickets.

Don’t tell me I’m wrong.

Because once you had a face to your victim of a illegitimate ticket, you couldn’t handle it

And you know if I contest they won’t take my side.

Because you have a reputation for being over-the-top in your tactics. Stories of you chasing cars into store lots because you thought they might be speeding on campus are joked about at parties and how there is not real authority for security

But just because you think you deserve that authority

Does not mean you get it.

So next time you decide

To intimidate a twenty-year-old girl

Just trying to buy some laundry detergent for her boyfriend

Remember this: your job is to keep us safe. To keep the campus safe. Not to use your position to bully students into tickets they can’t afford.

Oh, and Eleven? If you can’t unload/load there, you better tell everyone else on the team, because the’ve been letting students do it for years.

See how well your superiors respond to that, newbie.