Some people are so awkward

I have one of those photo security passes to get into my office.  Like I work for the CIA or something. (Or the equally renowned and distinguished Canadian version, CSIS.  Pronounced See-Sis.  Because it's cool.)

My security pass is a plastic card with a very attractive convict photo on the front and a magical probably carcinogenic magnetic insert that somehow allows me to pass through the automated sliding glass partitions without setting off a series of alarms/sirens/flashing lights.   

And although I could, in theory, just hop over said glass partitions, it is highly frowned upon. 

Now.  I have, in some rare instances, been known to lose my security pass.  It's possible that I may have - once or twice - walked into the office, and unceremoniously crashed into the plexiglass before I knew what hit me.  Maybe.

Well, on Monday when I tried to swipe my card it failed.  Cue the sirens. 

Turns out, the fucking thing was totally split in half.  How I didn't notice this is entirely unclear, but whatever. 

The security guard let me in (I basically could've been a bomber for all he knew) and told me to go to the Security Office to get a new card. 

Problem is, I work in an office.  A big office.  With a very large and oppressive bureaucracy.  Like 1984.  So I knew I wouldn't just be able to show up at the Security Office for a new card.  That would be too easy.

No.  I'd have to ask Admin Support to contact Security, so Security could contact me, and then (and only then) could I go to the Security Office. 

When I went to Admin Support, she said it should be fine.  I should just go straight to the Security Office. 

So I did. 

And they of course told me to go talk to Admin Support. 

Fuck. 

So I did. 

Christ. 

Once I finally received the coveted invitation to the secret Security Office, I travelled down to get  my new card. 

And then I sat.  And waited.  In a tiny, smelly, dark office dungeon.  For more minutes than I care to admit.  And I watched the security video on tv that was kind enough to inform me that "passwords are like socks."  I don't know why.  I stopped watching. 

Because that's when it happened.

The tall dorky guy in line ahead of me was called up to take his photo. 

He stood in front of the camera screen, and smiled. 

And the camera attendant (aka Security Officer) told him to look into the lower camera. 

I kid you not.  That poor tall dorky guy looked at the camera, looked at the attendant, and then CROUCHED DOWN. 

He very awkwardly bent his knees and lowered his face to be level with the camera.  And then he smiled. 

The attendant snorted, told him to stand up straight, and then took the picture. 

Meanwhile, I stifled outbursts of laughter. 

And then the whole ordeal was worth it. 

Fact: I am PLAYFUL.

In honour of Miss Sarcasm's Operation Play More, here is a list of things I've done recently that I consider "playing" ...

1) I BOOKED A TRIP TO CHICAGO.  With other bloggers.  Yeah.  To drink beer and eat pizza. And to be ridiculous.  Because that's my specialty. 

2) I smeared yellow dandelion goop on my friend Phil's arm.  And then I ran away.

3) I made s'mores on the fire.  Yes, the fire.  That Hubby made.  This weekend.  In our house.  In June. 

4) I took off from work and bought popsicles for my colleagues.  And then I ate them.  K, not all of them, but at least two. 

5) I went to see Snow White and the Huntsman with the girls.  And I squealed childishly when the trailer for the final Twilight movie played.  And then I squealed even more when almost every scene in Snow White was the same as those in Twilight.  Like, THE SAME.  (Except for the ones with Charlese Theron.  Charlese Theron is a beautiful genius.)  Oh, and I also spent $4.51 on the smallest bag of peanut M&Ms known to humanity, simply to avoid eating the GREEN BEANS my friends were snacking on.  Losers. 

6) I became a #gooseabductor.  Rather, I tried to.  Not really geese.  More like goslings.  I've not yet been successful, but I haven't given up.  Hint for other potential goose abductors: mother geeses don't like when you try to abduct their babies.