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Downtown Ambassadors are hassling the homeless. Commercial Drive’s 'Business Improvement Association' goons are busting tarot card readers. Skytrain cops are packing heat.

Judging by the shocking rise in rent-a-cops, Vancouverites have never been more at risk. So to help fight the War on Insecurity, I’m renting my own Security Guard outfit to patrol the mean streets of Vancouver.

Monday, 5 pm – warehouse district

I visit S&M Costumes to pick up my new identity:

-blinding yellow jacket with 'SECURITY' emblazoned on the back
-ball cap with triangular Security patch
-dress shirt
-clip-on tie
-navy-blue ball-hugging cargo slacks

To this I add:

-walkie talkie
-flashlight
-sunglasses
-cell phone (ancient, battered, frequently calls itself by accident)
-notebook to record 'incidents'
-flask containing cheap scotch

Tuesday, 7:30 a.m. – Mount Unpleasant

Like so many Vancouverites, my wife sleeps innocently while our city is under siege from pushers and meth freaks. I straighten my tie, tuck the flask into my slacks, then hit the streets to guard and protect.

I test the costume by escorting our garbage can and recycling box to the alley. We live at the corner of Fraser & Gross, so normally I’m accosted by bottle collectors before my box hits the pavement. But when the rubby-dubs see my SECURITY jacket, they shrink into the shadows. My garbage is secure. Success!

8:45 a.m. – East 10th Ave
Second mission: walk my dog, Kyle. My polyester jacket (size XXXL) swishes as we walk. This thing fits like a tent. Feel like a skinny boy.

However, Kyle, a compact mutt, makes me feel like a big manly cop. When his ears are up and if you’re not wearing your glasses, he could pass for a police dog. Well, a really weenie police dog who wants love so badly, he moans and reaches for strangers, licking their hands and hoping they’ll invite him home.

As we approach two teenaged drug dealers at the bus stop, Kyle strains to try and lick them. "Whoa, boy, easy," I say, "we just want to talk with them. No need to get vicious." The dealers split, pretending they left something at home. Yes!

9:15 am, Fraser & Broadway
Kyle and I head to the park. At The Pit Stop convenience store, a prostitute sees us, turns and staggers down the alley. Mission accomplished: Fraser & Broadway is now permanently secure.

9:30 am – 10 a.m. Fraser Street
We visit The Murder House on the corner. Been empty for years. Legend has it the owner went cuckoo after thugs shot her kid in a drug deal gone sour.

It still looks like a crime scene: yellow tape over a window and the yard is surrounded by a tall chain link fence. In the backyard, an uprooted hot tub is tilted against a tree. In the front yard, another abandoned jacuzzi is practically inviting strangers to scale the fence and fill it with pee.

Kyle and I decide to guard the front jacuzzi from early morning drunks. Sure enough, an old guy weaves towards me. He glowers at me, veers around Kyle, and curses us quietly. I can tell he totally has to pee. Ha!

Beyond him, the streetwalker is back in front of The Pit Stop. Damn. By now I'd hoped she’d given up The Life.

10:50 a.m. - Home

I email 53 friends, offering to guard them and their "loved things like cars, bicycles, even your office desk over the lunch hour." Seconds later, my cell rings. It’s Ari, a composer, who wants me to guard his recording session at 3 pm.

"Roger," I say, then I take a call from Prem Gill from Citytv. Like most big celebrities, Prem is tiny. She wants me to escort her safely past downtown "hooligans" into a film premiere at the Vogue. I promise to be Kevin Costner to her Whitney Houston. She says she’ll call before 6:15 tonight to set up a meet. Excellent. Gonna be a busy day.

11:45 am - #8 Downtown bus
As my wife rides the bus to her university, I stand over her, guarding her brains. She’s on the Dean’s List and I want her to graduate safely and make tons of money so I never have to work as an actual security guard.

We get off near the Church of Scientology. Since Sarah used to be a big Tom Cruise fan, I situate my body between her and the open Scientology door. Then she tells me I stood too close on the bus. "Nice guarding, Hegan," she says, "Your groin was in my face the entire time. I need protection from my protection."

12:20 pm – Granville Street
Attractive women will not look at security guards except with pity or disdain.

12:32 pm
Buy a hot chocolate. The barista gives me a discount "for security guards and cops." I thank her, then enter Men’s Room and pour scotch into my cup.

12:33 pm
Buy Clorets gum, eat three.

12:43 pm – Royal Bank, Georgia
I pace in front of my bank to guard my $8.23 in Savings.

Most bank heists occur during lunch. Bank guards are distracted by shift changes, and the sidewalk is filled with office workers who, during the robbers’ escape, can get conveniently shot instead.

1:06 pm
Occurs to me that, if my bank gets heisted, I’ll be the first one killed. Abandon post.

1:22 pm, Georgia & Richards
Buy another hot chocolate (no discount). Top it up with scotch. Then I guard the bronze bull statue outside the coffee shop.

1:24 pm
A small ugly foreign child slaps the bull’s belly.

"Careful," I say, waving him on. He complies.

1:35 pm
I escort a young woman to the library where she safely returns three CDs. I’m so convincing, she refuses to believe this isn’t my full-time job. We pass former Mayor Philip Owen who sees me, appears nervous, and looks away. Success!

2:00 pm
My cell rings: an actor friend needs me to guard him! He’s leaving for an audition in ten minutes. I sprint 12 blocks to his condo tower, making dozens of tourists scatter.

2:22 pm
Wade emerges in a natty suit. I hold the door open and shield him from snipers which isn’t easy to do: he’s a 200-lb bodybuilder and ex-professional hockey player who is much bigger, tougher, and stronger than me.

"I feel blessed that you’re here to open doors for me," says Wade. "This is a commercial audition and I need to protect my cuticles."

3:26 pm
I get the call. Ari cancelled his recording session but now he wants me to guard his scooter while he visits the dentist. I sprint for the Broadway bus.

3:52 pm – crowded bus
Pants moist. Flask is leaking. I now stink of cheap scotch and polyester.

3:54 pm – Salvation Army, Broadway & Stephens
Ari’s Yamaha scooter is parked in front of the Salvation Army. I chug the rest of the scotch then stand guard.

Shoppers exit the thrift store, see me, and shake their heads, as if to say, "Oh come on! Are you gonna pat me down?"

A woman drops a candy bar wrapper. "You dropped something," I say, pointing at her, then the wrapper. Embarrassed, she ducks inside the store and refuses to leave until after I’m gone.

4:18 pm
Now addicted to Clorets gum. Nose tingly. Losing feeling in upper part of face.

4:40 pm
Ari emerges with dental goo on his cheek. I tell him a driver backed up and almost hit his scooter. But then she saw me and parked well short.

Ari, a former military man, says "Excellent sit rep" (which means 'situation report'). "This is a very valuable service," he adds as I brush the goo off his cheek. "My wife and children can take care of themselves, frankly. But you leave your car or your bike or scooter or airplane out in public, you just never know what’s going to happen. Just knowing someone’s watching it makes me feel infinitely better. Bang up job."

5:15 – 5:30 pm – Vancouver Police Department HQ, 1st & Cambie
I walk slowly around the police station. Building secure.

5:31 pm
No call from Prem Gill yet about guarding her at tonight’s film premiere. Concerned.

6:14 pm
Prem still hasn’t called. Worried now. Start to run.

Rush into Internet café, check my email. An urgent text message from Prem!

Ken – want to call you but realized I have not synched my BB with my Outlook. What the hell am I going to do? I'm scared.

She doesn’t leave her phone number. Where is she?!!

6:17 pm

Prem texts again:

Too late I'm in the theatre!

I’m devastated. My most high-profile assignment and I failed her. Worse, I violated at least two rules from 'The Bodyguard' movie poster: "Never let her out of your sight. Never let your guard down. Never fall in love."

6:18 pm – Granville Street

I trudge home, sickened by my powerlessness. The streets feel cold and hopeless.

Then I see a homeless man sleeping on the busy sidewalk. The sun’s setting and the street kids are looking at his shoes. Uh-oh.

Summoning up all my courage, I stand guard beside the sleeping man.

Tourists laugh and point at him. But then they notice me, his big yellow SECURITY blanket, and they leave him unmolested.

Eight uneventful minutes later, I leave the man alone with his dreams, safe from riot cops, businessmen, and Downtown Ambassadors. And as I stroll off into the night, I swear he stirred and whispered, "Thank you, guardian angel."

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