1.h.
“You’re not on the list of authorized personnel,
lady. So you are not getting in.”
“Are you sure
I’m not on there? Can I see the list?”
she said.
“Only
authorized personnel may see the Authorized Personnel List.”
“Would you
please stop quoting corporate policy to me?”
The security
guard cocked his head and said, “Would you please get yourself out of my face
and move along?”
“Check the
list. My name is Ms. Adams.”
She was
stalling. The money and the sex tactic
had not worked. It always worked in the
white collar world. The security guard
glared at her and lifted his radio phone to his mouth.
“Need an
authorized personnel check for a Ms. Adams.
Person in question is requesting entrance to Mr. Smith’s room.”
“Mike? You still at your post?” a voice came back.
“Of
course. This lady’s been–”
“Your lunch
started seven minutes ago. Go clock
out.”
“No one’s come
to relieve me yet, sir. And we have an
unauthorized–”
“Ramon called
out so there’s no coverage. Take your
break. Right now.”
“But sir,
there’s an unauthor–”
“My job is to
make sure you clock milkers take your breaks on time so we don’t go over on
hours. Are you trying to get me fired?”
The security
guard flexed his jaw. “No, sir.”
“Are you now,
presently, walking away from your post toward the time clock?
Mike shook his
head. After a moment he said, “Yes,
sir.” Then he shrugged, motioned Ms.
Adams toward the door, and stormed off down the hallway.
Ms. Adams
smirked and went into the room.
