Oh, to work security. The guys in engineering make fun of them, call them "red shirts" and talk about how they're meat shields on every away-mission. Not me. Those guys have it made. They sit around and play three-tiered chess all day in the break room, they get double the standard holodeck time and then they get to go out in a blaze of glory on the away-missions with the upper crust of the bridge crew. I'd trade an extra twenty years onboard this bucket of shit for my name in a captain's log talking about how I had all of my carbon sucked out by some monster that looked like the hottest woman ever.
And the bridge crew, feh. Do you know how many times I've even been on the bridge? Once, when Captain Picard somehow fucked up the holodeck again (not my department) and got Moriarty to come out of his replicator. There was tweed everywhere. Bolts of the stuff just kept coming out of the damn replicator. Those assholes only ever call me when something breaks. My chest never beeps and then says "Ensign Dupree, we are under attack, what do you think the replicator can do." I would say "a whole hell of a lot," because holy crap, it's only like the second most incredible technology ever made. It would be the most incredible, but you can't make a replicator generate forty identical women with giant breasts and insatiable libidos. That's holodeck territory.