Huzzah!

The Death Star has deemed me worthy of a role-addition. While I've been quite accustomed to playing the part of scapegoat (total responsibility and no control), this new "opportunity" is the perfect setting for breeding hate and discontent amongst my peers. Hooray! (sigh)

In addition to all the other "hats" I wear, it has been determined by the powers that be that I should also handle the interior/exterior, hydrological, electrical, material, ingress/egress and overall perimeter integrity of the property I work at.

I, AM, BUILDING MANAGER!

Doesn't sound as impressive or awe inspiring as "Gladiator", huh?

To steal a line, "If I woke up tomorrow with my head sewn to the carpet I wouldn't be more surprised than I am right now."

If anything, anything, goes wrong, I'm the one who is called.

The biggest problem is the local meth-head du jour who sees dollar signs where the copper sits in the yard. Undeterred by the barb-wire topped fencing surrounding the compound, they've resorted to ladders or even cutting straight through to get at our provisions. It's been quiet recently, but I'm sure they are regrouping and comparing strategies for their next siege.

When I worked in Atlanta, there was an office that was more secure than most prisons. Two rows of perimeter fencing with razor wire topping each fence AND in between. They needed it, though. Before the upgrades, thieves made off with the transmissions and batteries from two work trucks. Transmissions for crying out loud! How flippin' motivated do you have to be for that?!

My friend and co-worker that bore this illustrious title before me has geared me up for what's to come when the weather is warm.

Most common complaint?

"Water don't taste no good"

I only wish I was paraphrasing, but, a quote is a quote. No reason to break out the Scrabble board. No chance of any exquisite verbal jousting. My only solace is that I've learned from my mistakes. Never lock horns with an individual of this caliber. They will only drag you down to their level and proceed to beat you with experience.

Alas, an opportunity beckons from within this otherwise oppressive addition to my daily grind. Whenever an uninvited entrepreneur makes off with our bronze gold, the representative from the security division of the Death Star arrives to personally take in the loss. I'm not ashamed to say I've always been intrigued by the work he does. I know that this division hires from within and, according to my co-worker, all it takes to get a foot in the proverbial door is to show a smidge of interest. That's all well and good, but, unless it is a promotion, my Imperial Leader is not obligated to sign me over. Any attempt at a lateral defection would receive an immediate kebash, but I will maintain my optimism.