Chillin Like a Villain: Menacing Grocery Store Security Guard
The Art of Villainous Chilling
Here's what people don't understand: I'm not just a security guard at a grocery store. I'm the gatekeeper between you and those suspiciously inexpensive avocados. I patrol my domain, which happens to smell like rotisserie chicken and floor cleaner, with the casual menace of someone who knows where all the cameras are.
When customers see me leaning against the shopping cart corral, they think I'm just hanging out. Wrong. I'm strategically positioned. I'm watching. Waiting. Observing that guy who's been in the cereal aisle for twenty minutes trying to decide between Frosted Flakes and off-brand Frosted Flakes. Suspicious? Maybe. My problem? Not yet.
Villain Activities at the Grocery Store
My villainy knows no bounds. Sometimes I walk the entire perimeter of the store. Slowly. Making eye contact. Nodding at the elderly ladies comparing pasta sauce prices. They think I'm being friendly. Little do they know I'm also mentally calculating how many times that kid has lapped the candy aisle while his mom shops.
I've also mastered the villain's most important skill: looking intimidating while doing absolutely nothing threatening. I stand near the entrance, arms crossed, watching people wrestle with shopping carts that have one wheel that spins sideways. Do I help? No. I'm a villain. I observe chaos. Sometimes I am the chaos, like when I have to tell someone they can't return a half-eaten watermelon.
The Customers Strike Back
Some customers play along beautifully. There's one regular who sees me and goes, "Uh oh, the villain's here. Guess I better not steal any grapes today."
"That's correct," I tell him. "I've got eyes everywhere." I don't, actually. One of the cameras near the dairy section has been broken for three weeks. But he doesn't need to know that.
Then there's the lady who always responds with, "Well if you're the villain, what does that make me?"
"A valued customer," I say. "Even villains respect good people."
She buys it every time.
But my favorite interaction was the kid, maybe seven years old, who asked his mom, "Is that guy a bad guy?"
Before she could answer, I crouched down and said, "Only to bad guys." His eyes went WIDE. I might have just created a future security guard in the produce section.
Living My Best Villain Life
The truth is, telling customers I'm "chillin like a villain" is the perfect response to their small talk. It's funny, it's memorable, and it beats the alternative of explaining that I'm actually just counting down the hours until my shift ends while mentally ranking which cashiers are most likely to get into an argument today.
Do I stop shoplifters? Yes. Do I help people find the restroom? Also yes. Do I do both with the swagger of someone who just said their catchphrase for the 303rd time? Absolutely.
So next time you're at the grocery store and you see your security guard posted up near the doors looking like they run the place, ask them how they're doing. And if they tell you they're chillin like a villain, just know they absolutely are. We all are.
Someone's gotta guard these groceries, and it might as well be someone with style.