The Gravy Guzzler

I must seek Buddha
for he's copied me too long
Only I'm that fat

Gravy Lady

We had other guards working on the night shift, and I got along with the majority of them really well, laughing and joking and reminiscing of times past... but through it all, Ercie (from now on Gravy) was there, constantly talking about me behind my back and biding her time when she could ruin me, drinking her gravy in anger and listening to herself getting fatter by the second.

Things were not going so well at the security company. The client (a law firm in Kansas City) started claiming that things were coming up missing, and automatically assumed that security was doing it, because of course no one at a law firm would ever steal things. While this logic was shaky at best, we did have a thief. Gravy. Let me explain.

Gravy was a thief. She would randomly come back from her inspection rounds eating or drinking something, and something just like that would be missing the following day when the owner of said beverage or food came up missing. This was annoying, but also funny because apparently a year or so before I started working there her nephew was a security guard who was notorious for stealing things, including from the other guards, prompting my main man McKillin (this is not far off of his real name) to get back at him. You see, this guy was, as all thieves are supposed to be, not liked by anyone who was not a douchebag thief themselves. I know this sounds cruel, but this guy, like Gravy now, was completely oblivious to the their peers' hatred of them, and would routinely steal from the very guards working on his shift and eat or drink their food in front of them.

McKillin informed me (with much enthusiastic "dahniggaaintlyin" from his peers) that he had had enough. He brought in a 3 liter of cheap strawberry soda, which he knew was the nephew's favorite. He drank about half of it during his break, and - now I am not sure he did this in the back stairwell or in the bathroom, as he would have had to walk past said nephew to get to the bathroom, which was the only room back there and might cause some interest in why he would take soda into the shitter, and pissed in it, almost filling it back up. He then placed the soda in the fridge, and went and relieved the nephew like usual.

Well, we all know how this ended up, and the nephew, long story short, quit in disgrace, to become a homeless person who masturbated on passersby in the long tradition of his family.

I said all that to say this: Gravy was a damn thief. At the point this whole saga takes place, 2 good retired veterans had been summarily fired simply based on Gravy's accusations that they had stolen. This caused the ire of not only me, but the other guards as well, as just in the Salem witch trials, she was acting all high and mighty, informing other guards that if they got on her "bad side" (which sounded like it would take a day trip and a couple of oxygen masks to get to) that they might be next. This led to a lot of grumbling, and increased security measures, meaning more work for me. I now had to go floor to floor and relieve each guard individually, instead of calling them while I watched porn in my office (I wish I had been smart enough to watch porn in my office). This led to me being a complete douche back to Gravy, informing her that she was going too slow, that she could only take one lunch from now on, and the like. That's when the Presidential Platter disappeared.

Tomorrow: What Happened to the Presidential Platter? Will the Stevester get in trouble? And... a thinly veiled threat on the nerdiest man alive! Join tomorrow, same time, same address, at.... steveshaikus!