Mistaken Identity


I was a novice security guard, having only been on the job about a couple of weeks. I was so new in fact, that I hadn’t even met all of my bosses.

Since I was such a novice, I thought my bosses wouldn’t send women out to dark and frightening places. I was wrong. In the middle of the night, they sent me to a dark and creepy looking factory in one of the very worst areas of town. I did my patrols…once or twice. Then I developed a full-blown case of the heebie-jeebies. The creaky old factory was pitch black and the surrounding neighborhood was a popular hangout for dangerous gangs. I heard laughter coming from behind the too-short fence.

That was enough for me. Hastily, I retreated to the office, slammed the door and locked it behind me.

After two hours and several cups of coffee, I heard a loud knock on the door. Heart hammering in my chest, I peered out the window.

A craggy-faced man smoking a cigarette was standing at the door. He jiggled the doorknob and knocked one more time.

I was now thoroughly freaked-out and called the police. They arrived within a couple of minutes and believe me, I was happy to see them. They talked to the stranger and then instructed me to open the door.

Who was this mysterious man? My boss. Whom I hadn’t met.

If I’d forgotten what embarrassment felt like, I remembered quickly at that point.

Fortunately, my boss, whose name was Chuck, happened to be very jovial and we joked about this for years to come.