It's All Hallows, and that DAMN CV comes back to HAUNT me!

Happy horrordays, one and all!
School is officially over after Tuesday--yeah, for all the bloody swots that actually showed up for all the classes--SOME of us will be making up hours a WEEK after graduation, and then forking over even MORE money for make up nights *SIGH*.......... I had an interview with a chair massage company that the beautiful and talented Dawn(see above) referred me to-- they tested my grip strength--fingers only, no thumbs--my right hand was 75 lbs of squeezy pressure, and my left was a whopping 79 lbs. Then on to the thumb compression test--press down with the thumb only--22lbs both sides. Now I understand why I keep breaking my toothbrush-- you should see it "brush,brush,brush,brush SNAP!"--there's Trey, with a broken toothbrush sticking out of his mouth, and the handle in his hand. EEERRRR!! Fire BAD!! Friend GOOD!
I knew I'd omitted something from my CV--Freudian slip, really. Back in '97, while I was doing the video gig, I took on a job as a security guard at an overpriviledged kids dorm off campus. Our official title was "Courtesy Patrol"--could you puke? It was a complete and utter bullshit gig--thankfully, the job came with no actual authority or real duties, other than hourly patrol and recordkeeping--of the patrols. My co-Nazis were the saddest bunch of losers I've ever worked with outside of radio. Real chip-on-the-shoulder bozos, dying for some respect, and failing to earn it. Sad, really. As my boss(too sad to go into now) clearly explained that I was there to keep the building from burning down or letting anyone bleed to death, I made it my mission to teach the little fucks that "discretion is the better part of getting away with it". I had my favorites--the "problem" kids that recognized me as what I was--one of them, all grown up.
I wore my hair very short that year-- short hair on me =scary. Really. So I worked the whole "looking like a psycho" thing-- I allowed my young charges to believe what they liked about me. They figured I was probably a hit man hiding out between jobs. Ok--that'll do. I would occasionally allude to the "to vanish mysteriously" list when they were too naughty. We got along just fine.
As I was dangerously bored most nights, I staged little entertainments for the kids. My favorite was the night that a gaggle of them came in late/drunk/tripping. I met them on the second floor, looking around, acting distracted and a little angry. The monologue went "You know what I HATE?...You hear a noise, you stash the body just for a second to make sure the coast is clear, and when you come back--it's gone. So that can only mean one of three things, none of them good. Either they weren't as dead as you thought--but who survives decapitation? Two, maybe you have some undead zombie thing shambling around, but again, decapitation, so rule THAT one out,too--which leads us to three--someone else found it and moved it. Ok, children--young, impulsive children---is there something you need to tell Trey?"
I wonder how those kids are doing these days, and if they ever recall those days. And how much therapy they had to undergo. Nostalgia.......memory, all alone in the moonlight, la de da dee dee dum da, la la la la la laaaaaaa!