I used to work for a banking operations center. Due to the nature of our business the building was very secure and every port of entry to every department was filmed 24/7 and required, at minimum, a security clearance card and possibly an interaction with an underpaid (yet somehow always overweight) security guard.
One autumn morning I was supposed to give a presentation on my departments' budget and I was nervous. It was my first time being involved in the budgeting process and my presentation would be heard by several senior level folks I didn't know. So I got up early, went through the Dunkin Donuts drive-thru and arrived at work an hour or so before anyone else to prepare.
The conference room was down the hall from my office but was separated by a thick glass wall with a revolving glass door in the middle of it. I headed that way about 15 minutes before my presentation with my left arm full of my papers and notes. In my right hand, dangling by my thigh, was the enormous cup of coffee that I had bought but barely touched. As I walked I was re-reading my notes until I reached the security pad at the revolving glass door. My badge was in my back pocket so I turned around (while still reading) and blindly rubbed my backside against the pad. The door beeped in acceptance and began turning and, as I read, I entered it. The door turns automatically so I small stepped (yep, while still reading) until I thought it had stopped and lunged to get out when... Bam! My neck snapped back from the impact. My head swiveled around wildly in the universal "what the fuck was that?!" movement. All I could see were stars and my eyes were filled with the tears that come along with a direct hit to the nose.
My beloved Dunkin Donuts coffee cup squished between my leg and the door, crushing it and spilling it's mellow and sweet goodness all over my leg, the door and the floor.
The automatic door knew that I was still inside of it so it continued it's slow, torturous spin. Finally it stopped revolving right in front of a larger than life face print in the middle of the glass. You could very clearly see the outline of my right eye, my nose (including a well outlined nostril) and my full, squished up mouth - all framed by an outline of hair. My makeup had obviously helped to define some of my features as there was a flesh toned quality to the print and my lips had left a pinkish, kissy smear.
I finally left the confines of the elevator and stood there for a moment. When my sight was restored I slowly looked up and saw a security camera blinking its' little red light at me. Somewhere, somehow, there was a security guy who had just peed in his pants.
My face was there for at least a month before our cracker jack janitorial staff windexed it into oblivion. It served as a constant reminder that I really needed to get my shit together.
Comments
I'm sure I've pulled a move like this sometime too but I can't think of one now.
I happened to be on call, and my pager went off from this fellow. I called, and he swore that the door would beep, but he couldn't get it open before the time would expire.
Suffice to say that when I got there, I had to remind him that this was a "pull" door, and that pushing on it to open wasn't going to get him anywhere....
God, you gotta love folks like that!
For shame.