Jsimmonsgr wrote:That security company was one of only two ( at the time) in the state that allowed the used of tasers. The catch was that you had to get shot with one to carry one. I speak from experience when I say that it feels like the worst charlie horse that you can imagine that runs from the roots of your hair to the soles of your feet. I loved mine, it was a instant compliance device. As far as the area I was working in I figure I shot my taser for every 10-15 times I pulled it, and in the first 6 months I was there I went through 87 cartridges ( one per shot). It was a really nasty area, maybe later I will write down how I ended up being stabbed in the right ass cheek with a pink crayola pencil by a five year old.
I did a tad more than a year as a Security Guard at an Army base.........now that was an experience.........lots of dumbass employees and of course the dumbass contractors and military people running around.......
The base did a lot of missile testing (shot them from one end of the state to about mid state over a fairly good sized highway, that they always shut down), lots of secret spy testing stuff........aerial and ground stuff.
Anyway, most of the guards were retired or former military....mostly Air Force (since there was an Air Force base close by as well). At the time, they issued us one Smith & Wesson M&P/Model 10 in .38 Special with a grand total of 18 rounds of awesome FMJ per guard. If you wanted a flash light, you bought your own, as well as your own duty belt. They provided two uniforms per year.....and a lot of overtime.
Hmmmm, says I.....there's some secret squirrel shit going on out here, and all we get is a farking .38 Special and 18 rounds? No shotgun....no long guns.....as time would go on, I would eventually see the wisdom in just allowing the .38 Special.....hell they should have taken those away from some of the rocket scientist that were working with us.
Well I was going to start this off with....Well for some reason I usually ended up as 187 (vehicle patrol for the 8 or 10 or 12 or longer) shift....but I know why I did, so I'll tell you......I don't play well with others...... I was born with a disability......I seem to lack a filter.....the one that lets you deal with morons without creating offense....you know the Tact filter.......or as the Army used to drill into us....Tact...the ability to deal with others without creating offense. Well I usually seem to create offense....sometimes just by standing someplace.
So if someone asks me a question, I blurt out whatever is on my mind.....like Hey Deke....does this dress make me look fat? Like this certain civil servant used to ask me.....my response was......you look like a 5 pound burrito stuffed into a 2.5 pound wrapper, you got flab hanging out all over the farking place and you want to know if you look fat?.........or later on when she asked me if I liked her perfume......you smell like a shanghai hooker during duty hours.........crap did you buy that shit by the farking gallon?
So back to the story.......one night I was out on patrol, checking the radar sites (to make sure they were secure), checking the roads to make sure no one was driving around out there, without us knowing it and of course stopping in at the fixed guard shacks to check in with the guards and sign their logs.....as I was driving down the road I hear this really weak radio call.....I could not make it out, but it was from another roving patrol to the base station up at Stallion.
Next thing I know I get a call from Stallion dispatch:
187 this is Stallion
Me: Stallion 187 go....
Stallion: Where are you?
Me: Stallion range heading north on road nine, closing in on RAMS gate.
Stallion: 187 - 186 has been in a hit and run accident and needs assistance....her location is as follows.....Her location is the old Ranch house on Range Road 5, near the stable/horse corrals. We have contacted the military and they are also on their way, EMTs enroute and air evac standing by....
Me: Did you say hit and run over? WTH? Copy that I have her location and I'm am on my way...........Do you have a description of the vehicle? Also any idea why she is at that location?
Stallion: No, not at this time. She is not answering her radio. Its possible she was following the vehicle that hit her.
Me: Roger that, do you know if there are any authorized vehicles out here?
Stallion: No, the only vehicles out here are supposed to be ours and the military ones on that are on their way......
Me: Roger that.........
Now all the Guard shacks and other roving patrols are all on the radio calling for a status, also for a description of the vehicle that ran her over, basically total radio chaos. Everyone out there knows everyone else and usually is related to them, dating them or married to one of them, or was/had been.
So after driving like a bat out of hell to 186s location, it was an old ranch/farm that had been eminent domained from the locals shortly after WWII......according to Stallion dispatch 186 is near the stable/horse corral, I pull in and see her laying on the ground next to her duty truck. The truck was stuck into the corner of the old ranch house.
I call it in to Stallion to tell them I was on location and moving towards 186s position and would be dismounted from my vehicle and radio.
So I jump out and run over to see how she is doing and other than some pain in the legs, she is doing well. So I ask her for a description of the vehicle that hit her........turns out she ran herself over.......
She decided to screw around while on duty and pulled up to the horse corral to grab a smoke or something and decided to get out of the truck to look around the house and stables/barn area. She did not put the truck into park and as she was getting out, she became tangled in her seat belt and then slipped as the truck was rolling back and the truck ran her over as it rolled down the incline and smashed into the abandoned ranch/farm house. Now the truck is banged up a bit and the house (fed gov property and posted as off limits) is leaning over like its ready to fall on the truck.
After checking to make sure she was not going to go into shock and looking to see if she had any compound fractures or other obvious wounds I go back to the radio....I can hear everyone calling me for a status update.
Me: Stallion....this is 187......
Stallion: All traffic clear this net ......187 we need a description of the hit and run vehicle.
Now I'm thinking net? What farking net....its a fat overweight (had to weigh in at 300+ pounds on a good day) dumbass (who tells all the women that he was a fighter pilot) with a radio that has three different freqs. Forgot....dispatch was 25 years old.....fighter pilot my ass.....
Me: Stallion, can we go to a more secure channel? We had three radio channels....one for general use as in everyone could talk on it and listen in, one for roving patrols and stallion that the Guard Shacks could not access as well as one for the supervisors and stallion.
Stallion: Negative, stop screwing around and give me the vehicle description....we need to get the word out so we can stop them if they try to get off the base and have everyone look for the vehicle.
Me: Roger that.....Description as follows.......White Chevy 2500 4X4, with light bar, brush guard.......licesence plate as follows.......(all I remember is the first two digits 73, so the rest of the numbers are made up, but the Air Force used to use the year the vehicle was made 73 - A-Z means what type of vehicle...truck, car or heavy vehicle and the rest is how many are on base of that type) 73B0000.
Stallion: Uhhhhh.....187 isn't that her vehicle?
Me: Stallion........Roger that......she ran herself over.
Stallion: 187 please go to the roving freq.
Me: Roger that, 187 out............
“Complacency kills. Paranoia is the reason I’m still alive.” If we do happen to make contact, I expect nothing less than gratuitous violence from the lot of ya.
