As he felt the blood rush to his cheeks, his head began to spin. He needed to sit down before falling.
He was certain that no one would notice! It was something that no one should have ever witnessed. However, it was present—in digital form—on his boss’s computer.
Deputy Tony Scherb considered the El Paso County Sheriff’s Office to be a second home. He’d seen everything, from traffic departments to transportation agencies to judicial divisions.
He valued his job above all else, but a significant transition was required that he could no longer postpone.
After 29 years of building relationships both on and off the job, it was time to call it quits. He’d have to put down his badge and pick up a fishing pole in its place. Scherb had no notion that the entire force would witness a part of him that he would have preferred to keep concealed before leaving.
He still blushed when his coworkers and managers complimented him on being “extremely professional and exceptionally competent.” He wondered what they would think of him if they knew what he did in that elevator.
Even though he had a few weeks until his departure, he was still responsible for his work. He had a never-ending pile of documentation to go through and public calls to make.
His coworkers would also host mini-farewell gatherings due to their hectic schedules. Everyone in his immediate proximity wore the expression he’d grown accustomed to seeing after 29 years.
There was tension. No police officer could function under such pressure. Given the job’s risks, the need to preserve professionalism, and the public’s constant monitoring, it was critical to find methods to relax. Some police officers, however, developed bad habits that made it impossible for them to work.
He was aware of those persons who might abuse alcohol or smoking. This was the primary reason why the “elevator ritual” was so important. It was the key to his upbeat personality during the last few decades.
But Scherb had no idea his boss was planning to install a hidden surveillance camera right in the middle of his personal area.
Scherb’s boss presumably installed the camera after learning that the elevator was having technical problems in order to take extra precautions and possibly identify the source of the problems. Scherb had no idea that everyone both inside and outside the building would be seeing him perform his ritual.
He took out his phone and opened his favorite app. “It was quite simple, but my goodness did it get the job done.” He let his body follow the beat and tune as it started to flow.
This wasn’t dancing. They were entertaining, swaying convulsions that relieved some of his stress. When the elevator door opened, a coworker entered.
Scherb immediately restored his formal posture, but the music continued. His coworker raised an eyebrow, partially because she would never have guessed he was listening to that tune. Her small smile provided him with significant insight.
He was taking a step back! It had lost its significance. He could be as ridiculous as he wanted. He was still only a human, so why not take advantage of the happiness that came with his “elevator time”?
He might even be able to make other people happy. He then returned to dance.
The officer’s eyes widened. There was a tense delay as she realized what she was seeing. Then she joined in with a wonderful “yolo” display. She shed the melancholy of the day, and she became as interested as he was!
They lip-synchronized and danced to Silento’s “Whip/Nae Nae” until the door opened again. This time, a powerful individual was entering.
Scherb and his accomplice remained still. He even saluted the sheriff as a mark of respect for the man he had worked beside for all these years. He also made a point of pausing the music. But the story does not end there. In fact, things continue to get better.
As soon as the sheriff exited the elevator and another cop boarded, Scherb and the woman exchanged mischievous smiles. As soon as he pressed the play button again, they both began dancing again. The man looked at them, stunned. But what would he do next?
It was beautiful. It’s something I’ll never forget. The third member likewise settled in fast.
The fourth officer joined in the elevator party, bouncing her hips. They were all unaware that the action was being taped and that the boss would soon witness it.
It wasn’t unusual for Scherb to be brought to the sheriff’s office, but he turned absolutely white when he saw his boss’s laptop, which included the security film.
“Is this what you do in your leisure time?” his boss said. Scherb adopted the standard stance, with his back straight and his hands behind him. “Sir, I do.”
The sheriff reviewed the video again. then smiled. “It’s fantastic.” Scherb was on the verge of collapsing on the ground. “I’d like your permission to post this on our Facebook page,” his boss added. ” Police officers must also be recognized as human beings. And I enjoy the sense of community it promotes.”
The office didn’t expect much, perhaps just a few “likes” and comments here and there, but when the view count surpassed 7 million, everyone was stunned. They were widely disseminated! His boss went over and beyond by inserting his own compliments in the video.
“Tony is one of the funniest and warmest deputies I’ve ever met. He had an incredible career and will be much missed. Simply told, he is a decent person and a good deputy.” Scherb began his formal retirement as the day came to an end. They all said their final goodbyes and wished him success.