Work.

It begins at 7am. I enter the drab building where many dreams have gone to die, and take my seat amongst my co workers. It’s busy during this time: phones are ringing, alarms are pending, and nearly every phone line is lit up. I feel a headache coming on but brush it off–it’s entirely too early for all of this. I answer phone call after phone call, and handle alarm after alarm. After about twenty phone calls in, I end up speaking with “that customer”.

We all know the one I’m speaking of. We stood behind them in line as they argued with a cashier over five cents. We watched them curse at sales associates when the poor guy told her that her size in a certain item was unavailable. We eavesdropped on them screaming at their phone providers about a call that they’re a thousand percent sure that they didn’t make. It’s that customer with a rather large sense of entitlement.

At my job, those with this feeling of entitlement are seemingly more vicious than someone screaming over a penny or two. These people expect the most out of us and are unforgiving when they aren’t given it. Working at a security company, these people want safety, and once they’re smacked with the fact that safety is something that they can’t buy, they’re completely outraged.

“My alarm went off an hour ago! The police haven’t showed up yet! What time did you send them?! I could’ve been dead by now!”

“Why didn’t you call me? Someone could’ve been holding a gun to my head! I could be dead by now!”

“My alarm isn’t working correctly. I need someone here now! I’m not safe. I could be dead by the morning!”

Dead. Death. Dying. That’s all these people are worrying about. They buy these alarm systems and I’m in charge of selling them a false sense of security.

“I’m sure the police will be there shorty ma’am.” I say.

 “Would you like me to stay on the phone with you?” I say.

“I’ll call them back right away.” I say.

Lying. Liar. Lies. That’s what I’m selling these people–nothing but lies.

It’s come to my attention why exactly people behave this way. They’re completely afraid of death. They want to protect themselves from loss, so they pay ‘x’ amount of dollars to install these elaborate security systems into their homes. They lock up their materials at night, set their alarms, and snuggle up with thoughts of being invincible. But then their alarm goes off, the police don’t show up, and they call screaming at me over something that I have no control of.

Their sense of security was compromised, and they feel like they have to take it out on someone. Really, they should be taking it out of themselves because they’re the ones who planted such a though in their heads. Sure, your house has an alarm system in it, but the second you step out of your house, you’re fair game. If you trip and hurt yourself there’s no one to blame for that. If you get a paper cut, who are you pointing a finger at? Spilled coffee on your white shirt? Surely it isn’t my fault, so why feel the need to call me and yell that you “could’ve been dead”? You could die at any moment.

It ends at 3pm. I’ve been chewed out by several customers. Yelled at because their security system didn’t live up to their expectations; cursed because i popped the bubble they so soundly slept within. I leave the building; my feet dragging and my head down–heavy with negativity and misery.

“People are so afraid,” I think, “so deadly afraid of nothing.”