Page 474 - NIXBOOK

Word got out that I was the new K9 cop and a private security firm contacted me one day; the guy who ran the company hired
ex-cops and reserve officers and cops who were off-duty to do uniformed patrols for security gigs. He also had a couple nice
patrol boats and he got contracts regularly to provide marine security for various events, like when a large oil drilling platform
was towed into Seattle for repairs and all the environmentalists wanted to boat out there and protest it by hangings huge banners
off it, so the oil company would call for a private security company with a boat, and this was this guy.
Anyway the guy who ran the company called me because he needed several K9 handlers to work at a big New Years’ Event in
Seattle. I’d be off duty, but in my regular uniform, with Kilo of course. The pay was pretty good and my bosses signed off on it,
so I went over to Seattle on December 31st and froze my ass off for 8 hours standing outside the main entrance where 7,000
partygoers went into the place. Because Kilo was literally so professional looking – the combination of his bloodlines and his
harness – we got the assignment to get posted front and center to the main doors.

I had no idea what I was in for so it was kind of shocking. First; this is what it looked like inside: multiple stages, multiple DJ’s,
a lot of lasers and lights and heavy marijuana smoke and really really loud music and Kilo really did not like being in there the
couple times we went inside to look around. (the marijuana smoking in there was quite illegal but impossible to prevent)

Of the 7,000 in attendance (who paid $100 each to get in) about 6,900 of them were dressed, uh, like these ladies here:

The average age was about 24; I saw literally only about 5 people older than 30. About 40% of the attendees were men, the rest
were of course women. Actually most of them did not look nearly as trim and fit as the ladies in these photos.
Also, after several hours of seeing everybody dressed like that, standing in the lines working their way up to the main doors, the
novelty of near-naked women wore off pretty quickly and I actually began to really appreciate the few ladies who showed up
wearing tight skimpy cocktail dresses – those at least left something to the imagination.
My job that night, with Kilo, was to be a deterrent, and encourage the partygoers to ditch any illicit drugs into nearby “amnesty”
bins. Most of the kids bravely walked past us; they probably figured their small amounts of MDMA (“Molly”) would be safe. And
they were right, because I could not legally (ever) apply Kilo to a person. But still, some folks did panic and drop their small