It was around 9.20 at night, Forest Hill station. We’d been downtown, caught the train back. It was a quiet night; most people were probably celebrating or recovering from Thanksgiving.
As we headed for the elevator, we were stopped by a tearful young woman who appeared to be in her early 20s. “Please, stop,” she said, “I don’t know what’s happening! He’s going through all my stuff! I’m just trying to go home! Please stay with me!” We stopped and looked, and there, next to the pillar, a man was indeed ferreting through her flower-embroidered cloth bag which lay on the floor. He was taking everything out and going through it.
What was going on, we asked. He didn’t have to tell us, he said. But he spoke to the woman, and as far as we could gather from what he said, someone told him she had gone into the bathroom after he had left it, and stolen some insulin he had left on the counter.
KING SECURITY UNIFORM
I looked at him again. He was wearing the uniform of King Security. I didn’t get his badge number, but I did ask him for his ID. He told me to go away. I said I had every right to ask for his ID. He said he had ID, but he didn’t show it to me. After a few minutes, he stopped trying to search the woman’s bag, and left.
We stayed with her until the next train came. Then we went up to ask about the aggressive security guard, who apparently did not know you cannot search someone’s belongings without their consent.
“I don’t know who he is,” said the station agent. “He came in on a transfer. He’s nothing to do with Station security.
I emailed King Security to let them know. And when I went to Yelp, it turned out that the only two reviews were one-star reviews about King Security guards behaving badly.
One thought on “It Happened in Forest Hill Station”
Many years ago, through a professional organization, I knew the very responsible family-owners of King Security; have no connection to them now. I do have a suspicion though, that the King uniform was stolen and then used to be abusive. Should someone see a similar incident, a quick snap by your cell phone might help the police identify who is so despicable. It’s a terrible shame that the woman was alone in the station with this character; thank goodness you and your husband came along. But—wow!—he was gutsy to continue his actions (probably charade) with now three people watching him. So sad.