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Being a Black Security Guard Made Me Terrified to Shop
Suspicion isn’t just a radio code in a department store — it follows you everywhere you go
Over a period of five months in 2008, everything changed. I lost my big mama, finished graduate school, got married, and moved to a new city — Pasadena, CA. Despite my broken heart over losing the woman who had raised me, I was excited about my new adventure. I had used up almost every dime that I had to get our apartment in the busiest part of Old Town, and it didn’t take long for my $10,000 in savings to nosedive. I had to figure something out quickly, or this new life that I had created would vaporize instantaneously.
The apartment was two blocks away from Colorado Avenue, the main drag; you could shop, eat fine cuisine, or enjoy the fresh air that Southern California had to offer — which we often did. On one of our walks, my wife discovered Loehmann’s, a department story that’s like a higher-end version of Marshall’s.
Seeing a “now hiring” sign, she immediately told me to apply. Funds were getting pretty low at that point, so like any good husband, I listened and reluctantly applied. It turned out that the position was for a “loss prevention detective.” I had no idea what the hell that meant, but I needed something.
I began to overthink everything, from the clothes that I wore to the way I browsed the aisles. Should I even look around when I get in the store? Maybe I should search online for whatever I need. Maybe I should try to turn my head less and just buy what I need as fast as I can and get the hell out of there.
I ended up getting the job, and within the first couple of weeks my role became clear: Don’t let anyone steal the expensive stuff, and follow anyone suspicious. The first part was easy, but I didn’t know what the hell a “suspect” looked like at the time — and I had a problem with following people who didn’t give me a reason to follow them.
Our radio code for a suspicious-looking individual was “925.” My immediate team was diverse — a…
