Things haven't been going well, I've been transferred from my post on patrol duty and

I've been reassigned to the access control booth for one of the maximum security wings.

I was told to sit in a glass box about 15 feet by 8 feet and push buttons which

engage and disengage magnetic locks, opening doors and allowing access to the unit.

The dozens of monitors and front-amnesia staff coming and going, looking up impatiently

at the cameras, waiting for me to hit 5 then 4 then 3 which unlocks the corresponding

doors.

There are 5 thick steel doors to get through the entrance.

To get through each door, the previous one has to be properly closed first.

They never close right so people get stuck, then they give impatient look to the camera

and I have to smile politely and say, check the door behind you and if they get closed

properly into my decades old intercom system.

I'm locked to my booth so all I can do is watch as they struggle to comprehend my garbled

instructions.

The staff on the unit were nice enough at first saying, hi, good morning as they come

in for their shift.

I'd smile back and wave and buzz them through the doors, but it was only hours before I

had become a background fixture in my booth and people would walk through the doors and

pass without glancing at me, expecting the doors to open as if by magic.

Doctors and nurses pass through, chins in the air, ignoring my desperate attempts at

pleasant conversation and rapport building.

What could I say, I have a complex, I really need people to like me, it's a sickness.

...