Where I work, you’re required to have a badge to get access to the campus and the building.
Recently, I got a new badge but it hasn’t been working at the gate to get into the parking lot. Hence the following conversation:
Me: swiping my badge....again....and again....yet the gate isn’t opening. At the last resort and a pending queue of cars not so patiently waiting behind me to get in, I called security.
Security: May I help you
Me: Yes, my badge isn’t working at the gate......I just got a new one so that may be the problem.
Security: Where are you going?
Me: Well technically I’m already here.......just trying to get in the parking lot
Security: (again) Where are you going sir?
Me: To my cubicle....where I work. It’s a 90 by 72 inch slice of paradise.
Security: No, where are you going sir?
(apparently, if you ask the same exact question multiple times....you’ll get the response you are fishing for)
Me: I’m a little confused about the context of the question.....do you want my five year plan.......or is this one of those heaven –hell conversations....either way I’m not sure how this will help me get into that gate.....well unless this is heaven’s gate....then I am in fact lost....wait not “lost” in terms of my soul....but physically lost.
Security: (audibly exasperated) Can you swipe you card again sir?
(I’m a little thrown off by a different question....but I react fast)
Me: sure
Security: What’s your name sir?
Me: John Pate
Security: John Pate?
Me: Yes
Security: What’s your name?
(and apparently we’re back to asking the same question multiple times)
Me: John
Security: Where do you work?
Me: In that giant building......right over there
Security: Where do you work sir?
Now I’m wondering if she works for security or the” department of redundancy department”
Me: Mostly at that 90 by 72 inch slice of paradise I mentioned earlier (artfully using her repetition formula against her)....but I do roam around a little bit throughout the day.
Security: Where do you work sir? (a little slower this time in case I didn’t understand her the last 2 times)
Me: (in an act of desperation I muttered my department)
Our conversation was interrupted by the gate opening......I think she just got tired of me and gave up.
The morale of the story: If you want good answers, ask good questions.
*inspired by true events.....but exaggerated....a tad. Part true, part story: hence a “trory”
