Not The Change of Pace I Was Expecting...

I haven't posted in a while so let's bring everyone up to speed: A week ago, I was fired. Apparently I was reported formally twice on the same day by two different customers for showing up to their homes, unannounced, and cutting their power when they didn't answer the door.

Go figure.

Moving on, I wasn't making any money at that job anyways so good riddance!

Before getting axed, however, I did make a few friends; friends who've helped me out with extra work. Enter Brian: When we met, I was a noob meter changer and I was assigned to him so that he could show me the ropes. When he learned that I was into mixed martial arts and UFC, he offered to put me into a part time gig working security with him on the weekends at a place called the Transit Lounge. I worked one uneventful night at the club, and didn't get called in again for about two months. As soon as I was fired, Brian brought my name up again and, luckily, one of the other security guards wanted to take a night off.

Perfect!

Fast-forward to last Saturday, 9pm. The club is divided into three sections: the bar (where the majority of the people hang out), the lounge (where they serve food), and behind the building there's an open space with another bar and a stage that usually has either a DJ or live bands performing. I started the night off watching the door to the lounge area. The lounge area hardly ever has trouble, nor does it have as much traffic as the other two areas. After burning holes into a few a guys from a distance who seemed to be making a few ladies uncomfortable but eventually left before getting out of hand, I became bored and switched with the guy guarding the front door.

Turns out watching the door to a club really isn't so hard. A young couple tried to come in without ID's. The poor kids said they both forgot them back at the apartment. When I let them know I wasn't going to let them in without an ID the guy instantly pulled out his Blackberry and started texting away furiously as if he was going to remedy the situation. The mop headed punk refused to leave the door and seemed to be expecting a miracle at any moment.

"Look, there's someone inside who's waiting for us. Can we just go get him?" he asked me.

I thought about it for a second. Most people who don't see the bigger picture would simply say NO. However, I'm always looking at the bigger picture. If I let someone in temporarily who isn't supposed to be there, I'm setting myself up for being able to kick them out later!

"Sure man, you can go in and look for your friend..." I replied.

"Oh my God, thank you so much!" the emo kid said to me.

"...your girl has to stay outside though."

And it's colder than fuck out tonight!

The couple looked at each other like they were on Double Dare and they had just accepted the physical challenge.

Fast-forward 10 minutes later: I was on the prowl of a hunt that I set up for myself. Moving through the mob of people getting down to the featured band of the night, Suenalo!, I found the kid looking helplessly lost in the crowd, cell phone still in hand.

"Alright bro, time's up, let's go."

"Oh, hold on a sec, I just-"

"I said time's up, it doesn't take this long to find someone in this club it isn't that big. Come on"

I just did FORESHADOWING!!

I escorted the kid back to the front of the club, content with my small victory. When I got to the door, the other security guards were there, Kevin and Dennis. I had left Dennis watching the door while I went looking for mop head. One of the customers was telling Kevin something but I could barely hear it over the music. I did, however, hear the last part of his statement: "... and I think they're coked out of their minds!"

Kevin took off to the backyard area of the club without another word. I followed closely behind to back him up in dealing with the coke heads. As we stood in the threshold leading into the back of the club, we didn't take long to spot the drug addicts. A couple was dancing (and I use the term in the loosest way possible) by a table, their clothes not exactly dirty but it didn't seem like they had washed it in about a year either. It looked almost powdered and stale. The woman's hair matched her clothes, puffy, frizzed, and dirty. Their skin looked as if it hadn't been exposed to sunlight in months. The woman was dancing with one of those tote bags that you get at the grocery store for about $10 dangling from her shoulder.

We made our way to the couple. I had only heard the end of the guy's statement so I was looking for a crack pipe to incriminate them with and kick them out of the club. Kevin, however, was looking for something entirely different.

And what I was about to see was going to blow my mind away. I had never seen anything like it before.

"Ma'am," Kevin started, "may I see what's in the bag?"

The woman, in a very matter-of-fact tone, replied, "Sure, help yourself."

When Kevin removed the towel covering the top of the tote bag, I couldn't believe my eyes.

"HOLY SHIT LADY IS THAT A FUCKING BABY!?!?" I shouted.

The two month old infant moved his head, obliterating any doubt in my mind that it might have been a doll.

"Yeah, so?" she said.

"LADY..." I repeated, "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING DANCING WITH A BABY IN THE BAG!?!?"

The man chimed in, "We wanted to bring it to the club. We we're gonna leave it at home..."

Well at least they're responsible crack heads I guess.

Kevin darted off to grab his cellphone. I followed closely behind and set myself up as a barricade at the threshold and only exit out of the back and into the club. The woman, obviously sensing that she was fucked, grabbed her bag baby and swung it around her shoulder very much in the same way a 5th grader would swing his back pack on at the end of the school day. When she reached me, she started to beg me to let her go.

"Come on, man! I'm leaving! Just let me go, man!"

"Lady, you're not going anywhere until the police get here."

Buying the cops about 30 seconds, the woman began to get desperate and started swinging the baby at me, almost dropping it on several occasions and almost hitting the railing of the stairs leading up to the club with it. Obligated to move for the sake of the baby, I moved away and let her barrel through.

"Kevin," I radioed in, "this bitch is swinging her baby around and is putting it in direct danger. I'm following her out but I need you out here with that cellphone so we can get the cops out here to stop her."

Grabbing her and holding her back every chance I got before sensing that she was getting too desperate, I bought enough time for Kevin to catch up with us half a block down the street and away from the club.

"Mike! Let her go, man! We're out of the club we have no authority out here!" Kevin shouted to me.

"SHE'S GOT A FUCKING BABY IN THE BAG, BRO!" I shouted back.

He was right though. If trying to wrestle the baby out of her possession ended up hurting the baby in anyway and we weren't even in the club I would have been in a real shit storm.

I let her go and we followed her to her car where Kevin was on the phone with 911 and giving them a description of her vehicle.

The driver's side door didn't open and she had to crawl in through the passenger's side. Imagine that you go to the grocery store and only buy one bag's worth of groceries. You're not going to be putting that bag in the back, you're going to toss it into the passenger's seat. This is the exact same way this woman tossed this baby into the car. She tossed it into the driver's seat, crawled in from the passenger's side, and then wedged the baby between her leg and driver side door while she and her companion made their getaway.

I stood, helplessly watching as they drove away. Unsure of what else to do.

"Kevin... we could have done something man... we should have done something..." I said.

"We might have been able to have done something." he replied coolly.

The police showed up later on that night for a completely unrelated incident and said that there was no development in our case with the baby.

I've relived that incident over and over again in my head since its happened. I keep telling myself there was nothing else I could have done without compromising that child's safety but I just can't help but beat myself up. I was scared of the legal implications. Covering my own ass from the law was simply more important for me than that child's physical well being. I wanted to kick that lady in the stomach and rip that bag away from her, I wanted to stall her long enough for the police to arrive, and I wanted to save that baby from any further neglect, but all I did was file a fucking report with Miami PD and for that I'm ashamed. All I can do is admit than I'm human, that I wasn't sure what to do, and to hope that next time I have the balls to do what's right.

Speaking Up

I haven't posted in a while since I've been so depressed with my job lately. Today, however, something happened that I think was definitely worth writing about. I hope that whoever reads this will remember my post in the event that they consider looking the other way.

There I was, end of the day, like always, changing out meters. I only had about 8 houses on this street and was on my 7th when the dog next door came to challenge my intrusion into his neighbor's yard. The dog was some kind of Dalmatian mix, hardly anything worth causing concern under normal circumstances, but I did see something that caused me great concern...

What the hell...?

Taking a closer look at the dog, I noticed it had a wound on the top of its head. The canine moved closer, barking at me, tucking its tail between its legs, shaking slightly. It was at this point that I noticed how still I was, trying to diagnose the severity of its open wound. My eyes moved to its right shoulder where I noticed another, bigger open wound. The fur was a dark purple from the blood that had drenched it and dried up under the Florida sun. My stomach began to churn at the sight of this beaten dog. I stood up from where I had been crouching to get a better look and the dog reacted to my sudden movement by running away from the fence and suddenly charging back towards it. In this turn that the dog executed, I saw its left shoulder, with an open wound that extended down towards its rib cage, even more bloody and gruesome than the other two wounds. These wounds did not seem to come from bites or from another dog.

Someone beat the shit outta this dog...

His house was next. I moved up to the door and knocked. Expecting a burly old man with poor manners, I was somewhat surprised when a young black woman with a soft voice answered the door. Taken completely by surprise, I was able to spit out my usual line thanks to the daily rehearsal. Even then, I stumbled over myself a couple of times, not knowing whether I wanted to confront her, play stupid, or punch the bitch in the face and liberate any kind of animal I could find in that house. I decided to stick with the second. My nervousness was obvious and she was reluctant to let me in.

Probably thinks I'm a phony tech.

"I can't open the gate. My father isn't home and he has the key for it."

There's the burly old man with no manners...

"Well," I began, "I really need to get to that meter can."

She thought about it for a second before letting me pass in through the house. She led the two person expedition into the backyard and produced a large, black, plastic baseball bat as we stepped outside.

Fucking bitch I oughtta rip your head off right now...

She kept the dog at bay while threatening it with the bat, but the dog was obviously in a playful mood. His defensive posture had completely evaporated and given way to a puppy's manner. I, acting surprised as if it had been the first time I saw him, asked in the best surprised tone of voice I could muster, "What happened to him!?"

The lady, without looking back, in the most indifferent tone of voice that one could possibly imagine, replied "I dunno"

The period was purposely left out to drive home the fact of how little she cared about this dog's health.

I changed the meter without another word and tried to focus on the job and not the open sores. Upon finishing, I moved my way back through the house and gave a courteous goodbye before noting the address and dashing back to my car. I have never called the police for anything before in my life... until today...

311 non-emergency had two black-and-whites with 3 whites and 1 black, all in blue, on the address inside of ten minutes.

Before I left the area, I got a call back from 311 and they asked me to make contact with officers. I walked right up the address, with all of the self-righteousness of a fuckin' Christian crusader walking up to Jerusalem with sword and shield in hand, and spoke directly to the lead officer and showing my face to the lady so that she would know who had called it in.

The officer began telling me what was happening. Apparently, they didn't really have jurisdiction over this type of case. They were going to call Animal Control and have them come out here and conduct their own investigation. Some time during his explanation, another officer walked up to us.

"What'd she say?" the lead officer asked his counterpart.

"She said it was her father's and that he had been medicating it for a few days now. I think it looks like a fucking corpse... but alive... it's the only alive-corpse I've ever seen in my life."

Cool, he's like one of those movie cops.

At this point I had to move on. The day was over and I had to get back to the warehouse. The police left the scene but not before giving me a card with some information on it in order to follow up on the case.

Believe me, I will be following up on this case...

I sat down in my car and reflected at the lack of meaning, substance, and reward of my day's work. Today, however, I found it by running off the path that I walk everyday. I didn't even have to venture that far off the path! Helping this dog out helped me center my view on the universe again. However, I still won't be giving out money to the hobos on the street corners anytime soon.

Light Side Points Earned!!

I suppose I don't mind if it was in the defense of a helpless dog!

Not Enough Hours in the Day

Today's work day was a complete adventure. It spanned the entire workday! No dogs in this addition, however! Only drugs! People might argue that it wasn't a drug, but my DARE officer taught me in 5th grade that a drug was "Any substance, other than food, that is taken for its intoxicating effects"; and this, my friends, was most certainly taken for its intoxicating effects!

The day started like any other day. I wake up at 5:30am, leave the house at 6:00am, and get to the warehouse at 6:45am, just in time for my 15-minute loading window. As it turns out, today I was assigned 82 meters! That can mean only one thing: APARTMENTS! When switching out meters at apartments or condos, all of the meters are located in one room. We work inside and don't have to move from house to house to change out the meters. I was going to knock out all 82 by lunch time and go home early on a Friday.

Side note on appointments: As part of our routes, sometimes appointments are thrown into the mix. These addresses are mandatory and must be completed, no matter what! These are born when installers visit the same address on three different occasions and the people either aren't home and there's a dog loose in the yard (see post #1), or the owner is home but there's an old man trying to cock-block your install (see post #2). At this point, the company calls the customer and tells them that someone WILL show up and they schedule a time when the meter can be accessed.

Today I had three appointments that made up my 82 meter route. That means I had a 79 meter long cake walk!

PRO: The three appointments were all clustered together geographically.

CON: The appointments were 6.5mi away from the rest of the 79 meters.

CON: The appointments had to all be completed between 9am and 11am.

Suck...

So I drive to the first apartment and get there by 7:30am.

MAN, I'm making good time!

I switch out 8 meters in the first room and gather my things to move on to the next room. Arriving at the next room, I notice that the numbers on the meters don't coincide with what's on my route sheet. I walk back outside, burning ever precious time like a pothead watching Maury and watching all those "go back to school NOW" commercials come and go.

1850... I'm at the right address...

Turns out I wasn't at the right address. Turns out it was the right number, but wrong street. Turns out I lost 30 minutes making sense of this debacle. Now its time to move on to the appointments and come back to these apartments later.

Don't worry, the drugs are coming up soon, keep reading!

After driving all the way to the appointments, the first two weren't much of a problem except for one where the owner was 15 minutes late in arriving to open the gate and the other where the combination given to us for the padlock was right, but the customer didn't specify that you had to put the digits in backwards on the lock. More time burned...

The third appointment took the cake. I pull up to this house and notice at least three papers taped to the property. One on the front gate, one on the front door, and another on the gate leading into the backyard. The note, upon closer inspection, read something like, "ATTENTION FPL CONTRACTOR FOR HONEYWELL:"

That's me...

"YOU MUST CONTACT ME BEFORE SWITCHING OUT THE METER. THERE IS INFORMATION THAT I NEED FROM YOU FIRST."

Knock-knock-knock-knock-knock

Was that five or six knocks?

A loud voice came in over a speaker above and to the right of the door. I noticed that it was poised right next to a camera. "HOW CAN I HELP YOU?"

It's fuckin' Batman's house!

"I'm here to switch out your meter...?" I replied.

A short black lady with a clip board and a pencil opened the door and began, "Very well, I'm going to need some information from you first. May I have your employee ID number?"

"I don't have an employee ID number"

"Well who do I call for some type of equivalent number for my records?"

What the hell is all this about?

"Hold on ma'am, lemme call my supervisor." After a short beep on my Nextel, my boss, Lieutenant Dan I call him, made me aware of the ID number that was on the back of my name tag all along. Do you have any idea how I felt after that? It was like growing up and turning 18 and all of a sudden your parents show you your birth certificate for whatever reason and you find out you had a middle name your whole life and they never cared to tell you about it.

Son of a bitch! Whadda ya know?

This lady wrote down my ID number, my name, the security number on the back of my badge that is for employees only, and even wrote down the make and model of my car and tried to make it seem like she was interested in buying one when she was really trying to find out as much about me as possible.

Should I spread my cheeks and lift my sack too?

Needless to say, changing out the meter at Ft. Knox would probably have been quicker. Even more time burned away. I'm going to need a little "help" to get me through the remaining meters of the day. I stopped at one of those gas stations with a McDonald's in it to put something in my stomach because, as anyone with a gamer score of over 10,000 will tell you, you never drink energy drinks on an empty stomach.

...and I'm not here for just any regular energy drink!

I put some food in my stomach and moved to the gas station section and picked up the most unholiest and, by far, dangerous energy drink I have ever seen in my life. I'm talking about REDLINE and here is exactly what they print on the 8oz little can:

WARNING: NOT FOR USE BY INDIVIDUALS UNDER THE AGE OF 18 YEARS. DO NOT USE IF PREGNANT OR NURSING. Consult a physician or licensed qualified health care professional before using this product if you have, or have a family history of, heart disease, thyroid disease, diabetes, high blood pressure, depression or other psychiatric condition, glaucoma, difficulty in urinating, prostate enlargement, or seizure disorder, or if you are using a monoamine oxidase inhibitor (MAOI) or any other dietary supplement, prescription drug, or over-the-counter drug containing ephedrine, pseudoephedrine, or phenylpropanolamine (ingredients found in certain allergy, asthma, cough or cold, and weight control products). Do not exceed recommended serving. Exceeding recommended serving may cause adverse health effects. Discontinue use and call a physician or licensed qualified health care professional immediately if you experience rapid heartbeat, dizziness, severe headache, shortness of breath, or other similar symptoms. Individuals who are sensitive to the effects of caffeine or have a medical condition should consult a licensed health care professional before consuming this product. Do not use this product if you are more than 15 pounds over weight. The consumer assumes total liability if this product is used in a manner inconsistent with label guidelines. Do not use for weight reduction. KEEP OUT OF REACH OF CHILDREN. Do not consume synepherine or caffeine from other sources, including but not limited to, coffee, tea, soda and other dietary supplements or medications containing phenylephrine or caffeine. Do not use for more than 8 weeks. Use of this product may cause your skin to be extra sensitive to UV sources, such as artificial or natural sunlight. Avoid excessive exposures from these sources. Discontinue use two weeks prior to surgery.

In other words: this drink will fuck your shit up!

I especially like the tidbit about "Use of this product may cause your skin to be extra sensitive to UV sources, such as artificial or natural sunlight." ARE YOU KIDDING ME? This shit turns you into a FUCKING VAMPIRE!! What the fuck is this!? You call this an ENERGY DRINK? No, ladies and gentlemen, this is a drug!

This is not the first time that I consume Reldline, however. The first time I consumed it, I decided to forgo the warning about only drinking half of the 8oz can at any given time. I was drinking entire 16oz cans of Monster in one sitting and I wasn't about to be daunted by a little 8oz can.

Little can, BIG MISTAKE...

This time, I was going to take it slowly. It was 11:00 am and I still had to change out 71 meters.

11:48am and 10 meters later, I felt awake, but I still lacked that extra umph that was going to get me through the day.

Oh fuck it, here goes nothing!

I slammed the other half of that drink less than 60 minutes after the first serving.

Ladies and gentlemen, THE TRAIN HAS LEFT THE STATION!

I started changing meters faster than I ever had before in my life. I was like an ant who couldn't stay still. I had to keep moving. Every time someone would call me I'd answer the Nextel with "Chuga-chuga-chuga-chuga-CHOO-CHOOOOO!!!"

I felt like that guy from Indiana Jones who eats the flaming heart.

Two hours later I had slammed 30 new meters into place. I was on fire... and the fire was about to be snuffed out. When the crash came it was almost as violent as the energy rush. In a matter of ten minutes I went from bullet train to mine cart. My reflexes became as sluggish as if I were drunk minus the actual intoxication. Instead of carrying three boxes at a time I dragged my feet when I carried one. I had to give away 16 of my remaining meters to a colleague who had finished early because I wasn't going to be able to finish. It was around 2pm now and the remaining 15 meters took me two hours to install. I had been at the top of the world and then came crashing down after feeling invincible; kinda like a rock star before and after his live concert.

I ended up finishing my route just barely and with my buddy's help (the one who took on 16 of my meters). I'm not sure I could have done what I did without that legalized version of crack though. Next time, I'll plan on drinking it at a time of day where I'll crash right as I should be heading back to the warehouse.

Lesson number two: Don't get high on your own supply.

Taste of the Dark Side

Bioware is an awesome video game company. I've played their two most popular games: Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic and Mass Effect. These games are different from most linear games with linear story lines because in these games, Bioware gives the player the ability to choose how they tackle different scenarios in the plot.

For example, in the Star Wars game, if you choose to help someone out who may need your help, and especially if you decline any kind of reward afterwards, you gain "light side points". These points affect the game in other ways that are beyond the scope of this post. However, if instead of compassion and kindness, you approach problems with a more hostile stance, showing off your strength and possibly even instilling fear into the other character, you gain "dark side points." Again, the ways that you approach these problems will allow the story to evolve in different ways but there is not necessarily any "good" or "evil", just methods on how you achieve your goals.

Today's adventure revolves around a struggle of wits and wills. It wasn't so much a series of acts as it was a succession of choices made that led to my indomitable will being realized. Never mind that my victim was a 60 year old Cuban man. Cubans are slow to lose their spark anyways. Hell, look at that guy running his island! He's decomposing day by day and he's still got the stones to run the place and defy the most powerful nation in the world while he's at it.

Anyways, my adventure started as most of my adventures do, at the end of the day. I'm pressed for time, I need to maximize the amount of meters that I change out by 4:30pm and the time for fun is over. The last hour of work is always crunch time and I'm all for "serious business" when it comes to crunch time.

I pull up to the home of my soon-to-be victim. In all honesty, at this point, I had no intention of starting a fight or of vandalizing anybody's safety circle. I just wanted to change the meter and move on to the next address. I saw that there weren't any cars parked in the driveway, so I walked up to the gate leading into the back yard. She heard me before I ever saw her and she began barking at me before I peeked over the solid gate. Luckily, this hostile dog was tied up and it wasn't going to pose a problem. I tried the gate and saw that it wasn't locked and that I could walk right in. As standard operating procedure dictated, however, I had to knock on the door to make sure no one was home.

Knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock-knock

How many times did I just knock? I slowly tried to replay the rhythm back in my head and take a guess at it. That's just one of the simple ways that I keep myself amused throughout the day.

Surprisingly, an old man, about 60 years old, opened the door. A shi tzu was barking at me incessantly from his feet, making it hard for us to hear each other.

What is it with dogs and uniforms? I wonder if my own dog would bark at me like that if she saw me like this.

The man greeted me with "Buenas..." which automatically changed the rest of the dialogue into Spanish. His accent betrayed him as Cuban as well.

In Spanish, of course, I began with, "Hi, I'm going to be changing out your electric meter." I paused to make sure he was on the same page with me.

"Hold on a second." he said to me. "Orlando, someone is here to see you." He said back towards the living room while he closed the door, taking that damned shi tzu with him. I pulled out my route sheet and took advantage of this moment to review the information on this address. I confirmed where on the property the meter was located, double checked the address, and saw that the account's name was under one Mr. Orlando.

A minute later, the old man opened up the door and said to me, "I'm sorry, the owner isn't here right now. Could you come back and do this some other day?"

Liar. You just told him someone was here for him.

Perhaps you remember from my last post the bit about my using my own vehicle and getting no reimbursement for gas or wear and tear. I wasn't about to just "come back and do it some other day" because these guys were too lazy for me to work.

I could have started with the higher path, hoping to appeal to the kindness in his heart, but you might already know that when it's crunch time, it's time for serious business... and I'm not fucking around when it comes to serious business...

I threw my body weight over to my right leg, leaning on it as if to convey the idea that I was getting comfortable and was therefore not going anywhere. I rolled my eyes at the old man in the most obvious way that I could, making sure that he saw how little I cared about what he wanted. "No," I started, "I can't just come back some other time..."

Liar. You're supposed to come back three times before escalating it to the power company.

"...I've already been here twice before."

Liar. This was your first time here.

"This is a mandatory upgrade that FPL is conducting across the whole state."

Half-true. FPL only has jurisdiction over the southern tip of Florida. However, the government has allocated funds so that all the power companies do this upgrade.

"I don't need the owner to be here to perform this upgrade,"

True, I don't need anyone to be home so long as I have access to the meter.

"but since I DO know that the owner is home, you can go ahead and tell him that I'm going to be cutting his power off and switching out his meter." I began walking away from the front door and back towards the gate.

"WAIT!" The old man yelled to me. "The dog is loose back there!"

Liar. I just saw it tied up.

"No," I retorted, "it's not loose, I just saw it tied up." I made my way into the back yard and found the old man had doubled back into the patio through the house to meet me there. His demeanor had changed from strong and steadfast, however, into warm and accommodating. He knew I was going to do what I wanted and that I wasn't going to leave a second before that. I had shown that I was in charge and that I had the power. I made him believe that needless consequences were going to ensue if he kept me from doing my job, something that he was all too comfortable with doing less than five minutes prior. I was expected to take one route but I had the guts to take my own route.

At the end of the day, I scared the bejeezus out of an old man for a $2 exchange of meters. The value that I got from it was worth much more however. Someone tried to impose their will on me and I turned it around and ended up imposing my will on them.

DARK SIDE POINTS EARNED!!!

Where am I?

I was inspired by both my friend Raquel as well as my fiancée Blanca to get into Blogging. I also figured that I had so many daily adventures in my line of work that I could type them up and share them with everyone.

So for those of you who don't know, I'm an electrical engineer. I really am. I've got a piece of paper and a receipt for $70k that says so. I've also got a real shitty economy that I'm living in with a poor job market. As such, I'm currently working as a meter changer in Miami, FL.

"Gee, what's that? We're so interested!!"

Read on...

I go to your house, I knock on your door, and, assuming that you're home, I hit you with, "Hi, I'm with FPL and I'm here to upgrade your meter. Your power is going to go off for a few seconds and then come right back on. If you have any computers turned on in the house, please turn them off now." and before you get to ask me any questions, I'm running away from your front porch, grabbing my hand truck full of meters, and zipping around to your back yard to swap out your meter. I don't have time for questions! I get paid $2 per meter! So I go to your meter box, do the deed that usually takes about one minute, and leave for your neighbor's house.

I usually get assigned 60 meters a day. That's 60 people that I have the potential for meeting and smothering with my cold cut phrase every day. Sometimes it's old ladies in the Haitian parts of town who don't speak a drop of English (OR SPANISH... coming from Vegas this was VERY weird for me!), sometimes it's paranoid white folks wondering if the "turn off your computers" line is me trying to find out if they have anything of value to steal in their homes. Sometimes, it's a stray dog that is running down the street who feels compelled to hump my leg while I'm between houses.

TODAY, my adventure just so happened to center around a dog. I went to the house, knocked, spit my line out, and was greeted by a little black lady with three kids all under 6 and her cold stare.

"Shit..." I thought, "She doesn't speak English..."

"ELECTRIC..." I said slowly, hoping she would figure it out.

"Ah... electric, yes!" She replied. Okay, at least she knew I wasn't delivering a pizza.

"OFF." I said while guillotining my own neck with my hand, trying to tell her I was going to shut it off momentarily. Unfortunately, they never understand momentarily and always understand I'm gonna cut your power, bitch!

After a few hand gestures, mostly me pointing at my imaginary watch on my wrist and then making an "itsy-bitsy" sign with my hand, she got the idea that it wasn't permanent. Then, I asked a very important question... "Do you have a DOG?"

Almost as if on cue, their dog showed himself at the gate I was trying to access. Think Chance from Homeward Bound... but on steroids... This guy was BIG... and he wasn't about to let me go in and change anything...

A few hand gestures later, I let the lady know I was going to change her neighbor's meter and then come back to change her's to give her time to put the dog up. After an uneventful swap next door, I came back to the house, changed the meter out in the back yard, and moved on to the next house with equipment in tow. When I get to the next house, I realize I'm missing one of my gloves...

We wear two pairs of gloves at work. The first pair is rubber insulating gloves that protect us from getting cooked on the live wires we're in contact with constantly. Those guys are worth over $300 each. On top of that, we wear $60 leather gloves that protect the rubber gloves from getting torn. In other words, uh-oh...

After pacing back and forth for about 10 minutes, retracing my steps between Chance's house and the place I noticed I lost my glove, I figured I'd check Chance's house again. Unfortunately, I can't just walk in because the huge dog is back out in the yard. I knock on the old lady's door and she answers it like "YOU AGAIN!?" The end of the day is coming, I'm going to have to report out of the field soon and bring in all the equipment back to the warehouse. Yes lady, it's me again and I'm not leaving 'till I find my glove!

She answered the door with a two year old in army camos and corn rolls standing beside her. She rolled her eyes up, began walking out of the house to get Chance back into the house, and pointed at the two year old while shouting at me in broken English, "YOU WATCH HIM!!"

"uhhh... yeah I guess..."

Luckily, the kid didn't really do much more than to stare at me in what must have seemed to him like a space suit that I was wearing: helmet, face shield, safety vest, tools, etc.

After the lady put the dog up for the second time, I ran into the backyard again and surveyed the area I was working in and around while tracing the area I walked through. Still no joy. I thanked the lady, ran back outside and continued skimming across her front lawn, the street, and the areas I had traversed, trying to find my overpriced glove. After another 15 minutes and a headache/stomach ache over the stress (because if we lose it, we pay for it!), I decided to take one last look inside Chance's yard, so I peeked over the fence, and wouldn't you know it... There it was, on the far corner of the backyard. A place I hadn't even walked CLOSE to when I was working.

That son of a bitch moved my glove!

I opened up the gate, made my way into the back yard, and "WOO WOO WOO!!!!" There was Chance, forming an equilateral triangle with me and my glove. He was let out again... It was time to bring it in to the shop and I wasn't about to mess with that old lady again. I pulled out my bite terminator and got to business. A "Bite Terminator" is a fancy name for an umbrella. We ware an umbrella on our belt in a cool swivel holster. It almost looks like a machete belongs in there but it's really an umbrella that, with one press, expands out completely to form a barrier between you and whatever is trying to bite you. With my shield in hand and pointing it towards my adversary, I boldly invaded his domain while he barked and threatened me from a safe distance. Apparently, dogs won't bite your legs if they can't see them and I just happened to be concealing them behind this umbrella!

I jogged in, grabbed my glove, and backed out briskly before Chance mustered the courage to attack my flimsy shield and maul me to death.

Victory!