So I’m currently in the process of clearing stuff out to get ready for when I move to NYC. In case you were wondering, moving and preparing to move is still the worst thing in the world. I would be totally fine with just leaving all of my stuff behind and starting a whole new life in New York City with all new stuff. I still might. Anyway. As I was rummaging through a bunch of old boxes with shit I never use I came across a piece of my past. A priceless plaque that crowns me Employee of the Month at my previous job. In my past life, I was a security guard. Nay. I was the best security guard in the world (see previously mentioned plaque). I worked security at a corn plant (you’re surprised) and I was the best at it. Patrolling, securing the perimeter, checking people in. The best. They don’t hand those plaques out all willy nilly. You gotta earn it. Protect and serve and play lots of Temple Run cause that job was boring as fuck. But still, I was great at it and would still be great at it if I hadn’t chose a different path.
As you would expect my claim has ruffled some feathers with our new security guard, Ebony, who resorted to name calling instead of producing her own Employee of the Month plaque
Listen. I’m sure Ebony is a fine security guard. No one has shot up the office just yet and I credit that to Ebony. No doubt. I hate that we’re even at each other’s throats over this because being a security guard is like being part of a family. I tip my hat to every security guard at every concert or event I go to cause I know their struggle. But here’s the thing, I’m the mother fucker with the plaque so I’m the mother fucker who is the best security guard at Barstool Sports/the world. If Ebony wants to produce her own piece of EOTM hardware then we can talk. Until then, I am the world’s greatest. Men lie, women lie, numbers don’t. Case closed.
PS- Am I terrified that the nickname “cornboy” is going to stick? No comment but yes.