Andrew: it's spelled "jelak", not "gelak"

Pedantry satisfied.

The word of the day is: "encopresis"

Firstly, before I launch into the usual self-involved tirade, I would like to share something that a friend of mine pointed out; namely, that it was somewhat bizarre to have three separate diarists going into three separate narrative threads, with barely any recognition of each other's existence, other than an occasional footnote or aside.

As Gabriel points out, we're not trying to pad it out, we're just cohabiting a "platform for diversely deprived people". Still, in this day and age, everyone with net access can construct his or her own goddamned platform, complete with angsty pastel colours, and tasteful abstract images. What does it say about the three of us, with little in common, and under completely different lifestyle circumstances, crowding out our separate lives on one diary? To some uninitiated observer, we could very well be three aspects of a multiple personality disorder - who just happen to congregate on the same page. It's certainly plausible, although, from what I know of Andrew and Gabriel, I seriously hope that if we ARE an MPD, the host body isn't mine. [NB: The Associate and I have some history about multiple personalities]

As my friend puts it, "It's like sharing the house with a partially mobile piano bench with a nose for table scraps. It's like sharing a subway car with some derelict who you think is passed out, until you notice that his eyes are open, staring right at you, and you don't like what's lurking behind the pupils - then the lights go out. "

Hm. These metaphors a bit too cheem for me.

Anyway, the replacement security guard also bought it today. He was caught sleeping at the job, with his rifle next to him, which an observant customer noted to a teller(the armed guard sits in a chair just by the door to the back office behind the tellers section, which customers get a fairly clear view off through the transparent screen). My assistant manager was incensed by this, and the fact that it wasn't the first time this bastard had been chided for sleeping on the job in plain view, which, obviously wasn't good for our bank's public image. The security company sent a senior officer over to haul his somnambulant ass off, and he was replaced by the first garrulous armed guard in my tenure to date... this crusty old veteran who normally does CIT routine, rather than static building guard. (CIT: Cash-In-Transit - ie. escorting armoured vehicles on cash runs). He fits in perfectly with all the classic fantasy archetypes: think of David Gemmell's Druss or the classic grizzled veteran mercenary - with the seamed features, wiry, shoulder-set look of capability.. and the shotgun;) He's actually killed a robber before(shotgun blast to the head), and was quite cheerful about it, and having to be shipped out of Johor following the incident(as a necessary matter of policy against aggrieved vengeance-seekers, security guards who actually take a life in the course of duty are immediately reassigned outside the state). This bugger is the second person I know to have taken another human life(funnily enough, that makes both the people I know who've taken another human life Muslims - which I hope doesn't indicate something. *wryly*)

The new guard gave Hasan(the other garrulous security guard, and who has turned out over the months to be someone I can really talk to. Some day I shall dedicate a rant to his fascinatingly storied existence) a highly amusing lecture. It reminded me of something straight ouf of an old John Ford war movie, or some hard-core grilling shit. It went along these lines:

(The veteran) "So how long have you been a guard?"
(Hasan) "Three months"
"And how long more do you want to be a guard?"
"Don't know.. maybe a few more months"
"Why?"
"Well.. because I'm scared.. so many robberies now... not safe to be a guard"
"WHY??? DO YOU KNOW WHEN YOU'RE GOING TO DIE???" (delivered in this stentorian, Voice-From-Above thundering denunciation of Hasan's manliness, or lack thereof.)

This was followed by an incredibly learned lecture on security awareness, the importance of gut instinct, how to spot for tell-tale gun imprints underneath clothing, some thoughful abstract musing on the role of man in this uncertain, tumultous world, and culminating in an earthy conclusion about having seen it all in 23 years as a security guard.

Perhaps I should shift the focus of my future workplace rants away from security-guard related incidents:)

Oh, and in a final aperitif - the other male in my position within all of XXX bank's branches in the Klang Valley resigned. That means I'm the sole male PFC(Personal Financial Consultant) in the Klang Valley region(encompassing KL and Selangor). My assistant branch manager suggests the branch put up a plaque designating me an endangered species.

As my senior aptly puts it: "You are now The Last Panda."