Gerry the Night Watchman

DinosaurApparently, my job has a lot more appeal than it used to.  To other people, I mean.  For me, it’s the same endless loops of the exhibits, checking corners with my flashlight, running my hands along the fronts of the jewel exhibits and treacherously smearing the glass with my fingerprints.  I hear the cleaning crews scream in frustration when they get here in the mornings, wondering how someone crept after them and their Windex and managed to cloud the glass once again.  It should be obvious it’s me since I’m the only person in the building all night, but somehow my hat and badge lend me a sort of authority I myself would never give a security guard.  It makes me seem like I’m noble, I willingly spend my nights patrolling the museum halls looking for thieves rather then sleeping, when in reality I just couldn’t find a day job after leaving the police force and this seemed like a low-key alternative.  But now that Night at the Museum (and the terrible sequel) have been out for a few years, my position is much more vaulted than it used to be.  Head of security said he got 300 applications for two spots this year alone.  Of course, if you asked anyone in their right mind they would say that’s ridiculous, museum exhibits don’t come alive at night and battle with the security guard so he can learn lessons about love and family and history.  But it’s gotten into people’s subconscious, and when I usher people out at 5pm instead of sneering or glaring at the guy ending all their fun, I get respectful nods and envious glances.  I guess that’s the power of the movies, huh?

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