Keeping the World Safe

One fashion show at a time

I always knew it would come to this someday. It was only a matter of time until the day came that I would don the blue blazer and tie, taking my rightful place in the warren of history as a security guard for the largest fashion show in Texas.

Okay, so it would be a bit more accurate to say that never in my wildest nightmares did the thought of such a thing ever cross my mind. But still, the fact remains that for a week, I was indeed the first and last line of defense for Dallas’ grandest fashion expo.

I know some of you may be wondering “Why, Jason, would someone need a security guard at a fashion show?”

Still others may ask “And why, Jason, would they pick you to do it, seeing as you are a 140 lb weakling who tends to fall down without provocation? (no offense, of course.)”

To question one, I say “Bah, don’t ask me. Probably something to do with models and their creepy fans.”

To question two, I respond “None taken. I tried to explain my falling down tendencies beforehand, but they seemed to think I was definitely the man for the job. And anyways, who am I to turn down cash?”

So that’s how my life went last week. I was stationed at a door and ruthlessly questioned anyone who came in it thusly: “Excuse me, sir. Do you have a badge?”

I know it seems harsh, grilling perfectly innocent-seeming people like that, but that fashion wasn’t going to secure itself. Plus, I got to sit on a kick-ass high stool, so’s I would look much more menacing once I could swing my legs underneath my seat like a 6 year-old.

I think I was pretty effective, overall, seeing as no one reported any fashion emergencies on my watch.

There was only one minor snag in the entire week. See, since I had to sit at my station all day long (lest some un-badged, non-fashionista sneak by my watchful glare and get on a runway or something) I always kept a bottle of water with me to keep myself hydrated and alert. This proved to be a problem on my last day, as when I reached down one time to grab said water bottle, I leaned a bit too far off my kick-ass high stool, missed the water bottle, and slammed my head, face-first mind you, into the carpet.

So I had to finish up my tour with a huge carpet burn covering the right side of my face. I tried to pass it off as the result of a tussle with a fashion show law breaker, but I don’t think I made many converts. It’s hard to make up a convincing scenario in which someone tries to sneak into a fashion show and ends up battling with a tiny security guard. It also didn’t help that the woman who gives out the badges saw me fall and would start cackling madly whenever I started in on my version of the story.

Oh well. I get to go back at the end of June to secure some other kind of show, and that’s sure to be even more fun than a barrel full of fashionable monkeys. I’ll keep you updated.